


Take It To The Limit

by taggiecb



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bad Decisions, Break Up, Canada, Committed Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Minor Character Death, Original Character Death(s), Post-Break Up, Reconciliation, Romance, Smut, Tragedy, fisherman Louis, song writer Harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-19
Updated: 2018-07-19
Packaged: 2019-05-23 07:16:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 35,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14929670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taggiecb/pseuds/taggiecb
Summary: Louis Tomlinson enjoys the simple life. He has his house, his family, and his friends all in the tiny town of Petty Harbour, Newfoundland. When he isn’t spending the winters plowing out the residents and keeping Liam and Niall company at Payne’s pub, he’s out on the open water doing the one thing that he loves the most, fishing.Harry Styles is a traveler. He lands in the tiny town to try to find himself. What he finds instead is a beautiful blue eyed man who seems to have everything figured out.But even a brick house can be damaged by a storm if it’s big enough. Can Louis’ perfect life and their relationship survive the tumult that’s coming?





	Take It To The Limit

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for creating this fic challenge. I had a lot of fun, and pain writing this. But what's writing without a little pain anyway? Thank you so much to Anitra, and Edie my betas. You cheered me along and I will forever be grateful for that. I have been thinking about this story for a long time now. I am glad that I finally get to share it with all of you xo.

Louis pulls his collar over his ears as best he can and wonders why he decided to walk the short but bitterly cold distance between his little two bedroom home and the local (and only) pub in town. There are a few Christmas lights still illuminating front porches and even the occasional tree in the window reminding Louis that Christmas has barely passed, and he has quite a few more months of this. The meme  _ Why do I live in a place where the air hurts my face _ comes to mind briefly as a bold and stinging wind barrels down on him. But as he turns to avoid losing his breath to the cold he is quite fiercely reminded; the ocean lies less than a kilometer below him. Such a short distance that he feels that he could almost reach out and touch it. He instantly feels a longing that pulls him to want to be on it. Even in the bone chilling freeze, he would rather be on the water than on land any day of the week. It’s what he lives for, the few short months that someone actually pays him to be out there day in and day out. The mere thought of having a brand new year once again in front of him puts a smile on Louis’ face just as he opens the door of the pub to the noise and smell of the town that he loves. 

  
  


The warmth and light is a stark contrast to the ice and darkness that Louis leaves outside. He scuffs his boots on the small mat and shakes off the chill as he walks automatically to his usual seat at the bar. There is a small crowd, but everything is small in Petty Harbour. Small town, small pub, small crowd. 

He grabs for the cold beer that he knows has already been placed for him just as the door opens once again, letting in a cold blast, he turns to see Niall barrelling in, shrugging off the layers of clothes that he has been wearing. 

“How’s she gettin on?” Niall asks, giving Louis a shake as he sits beside him, already holding his hand out for the beer that magically appears before him. 

“Best kind,” Louis replies, tipping his bottle to Niall. Niall tips his back and takes a big slug. “Hard at it?”

“Always,” Niall scoffs. He turns towards the bar. “I’m just about dyin’ ’Li, get your ugly mug out here!” 

Liam walks out from the kitchen, smiling as he always is, and leans on the bar in front of Niall. “What do you want now, fog horn?” He laughs as Niall goes through about three phases of indignance. 

“Who are ya callin fog horn? Not a paying customer, surely.” Niall raises his brows 

“I’m the only one who will feed ya, so no worries of you strayin far.” Liam stretches to his full height. “Now what’ll it be, or should I get Louis here first?” Niall knows a real threat when he sees it, he hates being served second. 

“Burger!” He yells out before Louis can even open his mouth. “Onion rings while you’re in there.” 

“Same Li, thanks,” Louis adds, smirking at Niall’s dramatics. 

“Be nice and quiet here soon. New year, new countdown for you lot to be out of Mum’s hair for a few months,” Liam calls as he walks back into the kitchen, not even bothering to write down what they asked for. 

“Ugh, why would he say that. Ruin my appetite, that talk will.” Niall takes another long pull of his beer. 

“Doubtful,” Louis replies. “And don’t act like you ain’t itching to get out there. You would be on the first boat out of the harbour if you had a say in it.

“When the time comes, sure. Right now, I am enjoying the vacation,” Niall grumbles. 

“Living with your mother while pulling pogey is not a vacation. You could at least try to find something part time.” 

“There ain’t a thing here that I could do part time. Nothin’ I’m qualified for anyway. I don’t have a fancy tractor to plow driveways and parking lots like you do. I don’t have a dad to give me a bar job like Liam. I sure as hell ain’t working as a bag boy at the grocery store like Oli. What does that leave?” 

“Mum was looking for someone to deliver the paper,” Louis muses, knowing how Niall will respond to that. 

“I’m no bloody paperboy either. I’m a fisherman, and when I’m not fishing I’m…”

“Torturing me.” Liam returns with hot food in hand, placing it in front of Niall.

“I’m a shell of a man.” Niall finishes his sentence with a mouthful of onion ring. 

“Maybe you should save to buy a boat like Jake is doing,” Louis suggests. 

“Jake just got married, he has to step up like that. I’m not there yet. Anyway, stop pressuring me. This is a sacred hour. Let me eat in peace.” 

“Peace sounds good to me,” Liam sighs, off to serve another customer. Louis smiles after him, letting Niall fume over his burger.  

 

Louis leaves the pub a few hours later feeling drained but happy. His belly is full, and his limbs are heavy. He walks home with a smile on his face despite the cold seeping in through his jeans and under his collar. 

 

It snows for almost four full days after that. Louis has one of the only tractors in town, and that means that he works from sun up to well past sundown keeping people’s driveways plowed and parking lots clear. Days like this he doesn’t make it to the pub, but he never fails to find something to warm up anyway. Neither Liam or Niall will ever admit to who leaves the meals on his kitchen counter every night, but he blames them equally and is very grateful. 

When the weather finally lets up, and every inch of the town has it’s snow put in the right place, Louis almost skips towards the pub. He has barely talked to anyone besides a quick hello and you're welcome to and from his customers. He never has time. He hates leaving anyone to be stuck in their houses for longer than necessary. There is no time for a chat up. 

When he walks in he immediately spots Niall, Oli, Jake, and a few other guys that all seem to draw together by an invisible comradery. Louis sits at the bar, waiting for his order while Niall walks towards him. He smiles and grabs for his awaiting beer. Except there isn’t one. He is so accustomed to there being a drink in front of him when he walks in and sits down that he actually feels confused for a moment. He turns towards where the drink should be. Instead of a beer, he finds a person. 

A man. A tall, slim, young man. With a thin white shirt and dark black tattoos on both arms. A come from away person, staring at him with a blinding smile on his face, where Liam usually stands. 

“Hello, welcome to Payne’s, what can I get you?” The tall young tattoo man says in a voice so low that Louis can almost feel the reverberation in his toes. 

“I told ya not ta say that. E’ryone here know e’ryone here!” Niall calls from behind him, startling tall tattoo man. 

“I don’t understand what you are saying,” Tall man says to Niall who just scoffs loudly and plunks down beside Louis. 

“He acts like he never heard English b’fore. What do ya think yer speakin By!” Niall replies. The man just looks at Louis pleadingly. 

“He’s harmless. Just a little crooked,” Louis says, in which the man nods, only looking a little less confused. “Um, I’d like a beer. Black Horse if ya got it.” 

The man smiles, and goes to the cooler behind him, only hesitating for a second before finding the right bottle, and opening it for Louis. “Louis.” He puts his hand out to shake the man’s hand. 

“Harry,” the man replies, smiling even more. 

“Where y’long ta?” And the smile fades again. Shit this guy doesn’t have a clue. “Where did you come from?” Louis repeats trying not sound like he is speaking to a child. 

“Oh!” Harry calls out, looking relieved. “Maine originally. I am kind of travelling around.” 

“And what did you expect to find here?” Louis asks, wondering why anyone would want to hang their hat in a place like this. 

“Inspiration?” Harry replies, but it sounds more like a question than an answer. “I am a songwriter. I needed to find my muse again, I think. So I started travelling around, working here and there, gaining some life experiences. This is a beautiful place.” 

“It’s a giant frozen rock,” Niall interjects. 

“A giant frozen rock that you wouldn’t even leave to go to your cousin’s wedding in New Brunswick.” 

“The ferry cost $400!” 

“That your mother planned to pay!” 

“I never liked Stacey that much anyway, abandoned us for the mainland,”  Niall sniffs. 

“Whatever you say,” Louis snorts, looking back at Harry who is staring at them both with a bit of a frightened look. 

“I stayed in New Brunswick for a few months,” he adds. He has a slow voice that drastically contrasts with the fast dialect of the people around here. Louis wonders if he stands out where he is from, but dismisses the thought quickly. Louis imagines Harry would stand out no matter where he was at. 

“So you are staying for a while then?” Louis turns his attention to Harry. Niall already has grown tired of the conversation and has made his way over to Shawn and Liam who are doing something over by the pool tables. 

“I hope so, yeah.” Harry smiles at him, and it hitches something in Louis’ chest. Something that he hasn’t felt since he was in high school. A crush. He smiles to himself at the idea. 

“Where are ya stayin then?” Louis asks.

“Liam’s actually. Apparently he had a roommate, and he left a while ago. It all worked out for me I guess.” 

“Hm, yeah. Roommate turned love interest that up and walked out one day because he decided that he was too big for this small town. Very messy,” Louis reminices. 

“Love interest?” Harry slides his eyes towards Liam who is chatting with Niall now, laughing boisterously as Niall rants about who knows what.

“Zayn. Good lad, just a little backwards.” Louis tries to keep the hurt out of his voice. He was obviously not the victim of Zayn taking off for the mainland, but it stung nonetheless. He lost one of his best friends when he took sides with Liam, but he didn’t have much of a choice. Zayn did him dirty, and Louis wasn’t about to ignore that. 

“So Liam is….” Harry pauses, and Louis catches on to what he is trying to say.

“He was with Zayn. He has also been with girls. He loves who he loves. Not a problem I hope?” There is an edge in his voice that he refuses to let go of. It’s 2018, love is love. 

“No! No,” Harry repeats a few times, shaking his head. “Not a problem at all. It’s just that, it’s hard to know when you aren’t in a familiar place who you can open up to. I’m glad that I know that I can to him. And to you, too, apparently.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Louis says a little more softly. “This is a safe place Harry. Liam had Zayn. I’ve had….more boyfriends than I would like to admit…. This is a small town, but no one judges anything like that. Two adults who love each other are perfectly safe to live their lives here. You are no different, even if you are from away. I promise.” He smiles at Harry. Harry smiles back, a little more open this time. He opens his mouth to reply. 

“Harry!” Liam yell from the back, breaking the spell. Harry jumps. “Can you come and help me out with these crates please?” Harry looks at him apologetically, and Louis is left alone with his beer. He had completely forgotten to order food, but his belly feels full anyway. 

Niall wanders back in his direction, losing his audience with Liam. “What do you think of the Yankee?” Niall asks as they both watch him carry crates towards the back of the pub. 

“I think I’m in love,” Louis replies automatically. 

 

It’s not too early the next morning, around eight am if the sun is anything to go by, that Louis wanders into the local Tim Hortons. He isn’t fully awake and is working mostly on autopilot as he waits in line. He runs through his tasks for the day in his head. Jake wants him to level out a spot in the field that he can flood for an outdoor rink, his mum wants him to stop in to a few places around town to collect the old newspapers. Then, he and Niall are supposed to meet up for supper. As is their routine. 

“Oh!” He hears before he sees that someone is standing directly in front of him, holding a red cup in one hand and a brown bag in the other. His heart skips rapidly for a second before he remembers to open his mouth. 

“Hi. Harry...right?” Of course right, like he would forget his name. Harry is wearing a similar outfit to what he had on the night before, save that he is sporting a large parka that goes almost to his knees and a dark green toque that barely covers the curls that are fighting their way out around his ears. 

“Louis...right?” Harry smirks at him, essentially calling him out. 

“Right,” he says, it’s nearly his turn at the counter, but he doesn’t want to let Harry go just yet. “So, how was your shift?” 

He sounds lame. He feels lame. Harry just smiles though and leans back on his heels like he has no place in the world he would rather be.

“Interesting,” Harry replies. 

Louis waits for him to elaborate. He doesn’t. It’s Louis’ turn, and he has nothing else to add to that, so he regretfully smiles at Harry and walks up to give his order, not that they don’t know it. He is a creature of habit, no matter what the time of day. 

When he gets his order though, he is surprised to see Harry still in the small building, not sitting, not eating, just standing by the door watching Louis. Louis walks up to him, seeing Harry smile wide when they come within touching distance once again. 

“Do you have plans?” Harry asks him. Louis just shakes his head.  Harry points to an empty table near the back, mostly isolated from the rest of the room. “Join me?” 

“Yeah, sure.” Louis replies, feeling shy all of a sudden. When he turns, Harry touches his back, guiding him through the small crowd, and Louis can feel his cheeks flush. When has he ever been shy about the attention of a man? 

_ You’re in deep already, Tomlinson _ , he tells himself. But when he sits down opposite Harry and gets the blinding smile once again, he can’t find it in himself to care.

“So how are you settling in?” Louis asks after taking a sip of hot coffee. 

“I’m actually quite used to being the outsider by now.” Harry half smiles, taking a small bite of his muffin. “Everyone has been very friendly, curious too I guess.” 

“Yes, there is no end to the “curiosity” around here.” Louis takes a glance around and sees no less than three heads whip around like they weren’t trying to see what the new guy was up to. Harry laughs though, looking around himself.

“I like small towns. Gravitate towards them. I know it’s hard when everyone wants to be in your business, but I have found that it has more to do with them caring than judging. When it comes down to it, I would rather be around strangers who cared than friends who don’t.” He frowns suddenly, shaking his head. “Sorry, that got deep really quickly.” 

“No, I know what you mean. Some days I feel like I have a dozen mums here, Niall included. But sometimes you need a dozen mums when you’re having a hard go.” 

Harry nods. “Exactly.” He then chuckles, looking around again before leaning in close to Louis.

“If only I could understand what most of them were saying,” he stage whispers, causing Louis to burst out laughing as well. 

“Sorry b’y, the only thing that will help with that is time. Time, and patience.” 

“I’ve got time,” Harry replies, giving Louis an open look that suggests what he might want to do with that time. It causes Louis to blush like a teenager. 

“I’m glad,” he says, forcing himself to look Harry in the eye even though it feels almost too much, too intimate for the crowded coffee shop. A light pink creeps into Harry’s cheeks as well, and Louis guesses that maybe he was right. 

“Want to get out of here?” He asks. Harry almost tips his chair over he stands so quickly. 

“Lead the way.” 

 

Their mouths are connected before the door of Louis’ house is even closed. 

“Good kisser,” Louis mumbles into Harry’s mouth as he kicks his shoes towards the mat. 

“Thanks. You too,” Harry gasps as Louis bites his bottom lip. They shrug their coats off, and collapse into the nearby couch, Harry nearly smothering Louis in arms and legs. Their movements slow down to a less desperate pace as Harry sinks into Louis’ body, slotting themselves together. 

“I don’t normally do this,” Harry mumbles as he makes his way down Louis’ neck. 

“Do what?” Louis asks, finding it hard to concentrate on conversation when there is a hand sliding up under his shirt. 

“I don’t just wander around looking for guys to get off with.” Harry rubs a thumb over Louis’ nipple, and he groans loudly. 

“Is that what this is? Getting off?” Louis looks at Harry who is looking back at him. 

“I don’t want it to be,” he replies, bringing a hand up to gently caress the side of his face. It causes a rush through Louis, not just of arousal but of affection as well. 

“Good, because I don’t put out unless you feed me first.” Louis smiles, and Harry rolls his eyes. “How about tonight. My place.” 

“Why not the pub?” Harry asks, resuming his exploration of Louis’ body with his hands. 

“Two words.” Louis tries to control his voice and his arousal. “Niall Horan.” 

“Mmmh.” Harry replies. “Who is cooking?” 

“Me.” Louis can barely whisper as Harry sucks gently on his shoulder. 

“Looking forward to it,” Harry rumbles before he is up, and Louis is left alone on the couch, erection barely concealed. “Really, really looking forward to it.” 

Harry not so subtly adjusts himself. “But I can’t stay here or I won’t make it to dinner. Need to go jump in the ocean or something.” 

Louis laughs out loud. “Same.” 

He stands, coming into Harry’s space again. “But I am looking forward to the dinner, too. Not just this. So you know.

“Me too,” Harry replies, pulling his coat back over his arms. He steps forward, capturing Louis’ lips in his own. Louis immediately melts into it. Then he smiles and walks out the door, leaving Louis standing in a daze in the middle of his entryway. 

 

It takes less than an hour after Harry leaves for Louis to start freaking out. It has been actual ages since Louis has been on a real date. It’s not like he meets a lot of people around here. And he offered to cook? In his own home? Does he even have food here fit for someone older than the age of ten? 

“Fuck fuck fuck,” he mumbles to himself as he pulls on his boots while simultaneously dialling Niall’s number.

 

“Yeah,” Niall answers just as Louis gets in the truck and turns it on. 

“Hello to you, too,” Louis quips, putting his free hand to the heater to get the minimal bit of heat from it while the rest of the truck warms up. 

“You haven’t called me on the phone since 2016, I figured I’d cut to ‘da chase,” Niall replies, sounding equally bored and unimpressed. 

“I won’t be in for supper,” Louis says, silently waiting for the storm of questions Niall would surely have. 

“Not bloody likely, you got a date don’t ya?” Niall scoffs in his ear. 

“How did you know about that?” Louis asks, temporarily frozen in his spot, letting the truck idle in the driveway. 

“Harry already came home in a fit about two hours ago. Liam called me, naturally.” Niall doesn’t have to say out loud that he isn’t very much amused that Louis himself didn’t call with news of a date, but Louis doesn’t have time for those dramatics today. He is having a crisis of his own.

“A fit?” 

“What do I wear, what do I say, what does he like, I am not prepared.” Niall puts on an impression of Harry’s deep, slow drawl, and it would almost be comical if Louis wasn’t having a bit of a fit of his own. 

“What did Liam tell him?” He asks, trying to grasp onto any information that Niall might be able to give him. 

“Told him that it was just you, and there wasn’t really any need to go all frantic about it, you wouldn’t care if he showed up naked. Probably would prefer it, you tramp.” 

“Liam didn’t actually say that to him I hope.” Louis rests his head on the back of the seat and groans as quietly as he can. 

“Not those words, no.” Niall relents. “You know Liam. He was more be yourself, Louis is a great guy, easy to get along with. Easy, ha.” Niall laughs boisterously.

“Good thing someone will laugh at your jokes,” Louis says, feeling calm enough to put the truck into gear. “You were entirely unhelpful, but I somehow feel better anyway.” 

“Anytime. Call me tomorrow,” Niall replies, and he’s gone. No goodbye, fuck you, or see you later. Louis sighs and pulls onto the salt covered road, trying to come up with something decent to feed Harry for supper. 

 

Harry knocks on Louis’ door at exactly  six pm. Louis only swears twice on the way to the door. When he opens it, Harry is smiling at him, face flushed red from the cold air that is seeping at a quick rate into Louis’ house.

“I hope you didn’t make dessert,” Harry says in greeting, snapping Louis out of whatever state he was in. He currently is referring to it as the  _ Harry is in the room, and I must stare at all times  _ state. He should probably shorten it to something more manageable. 

“G’wan!” Louis smiles at the container that Harry is holding. “Ye didn’t haven’t to.” 

He makes a space for Harry to squeeze through and closes the door again. 

“I wanted to do something. I needed a distraction if I’m honest,” Harry confesses, setting the dish down on the counter. 

“I know what you mean.” Louis rubs the back of his neck, and he checks the pot on the stove to keep himself distracted. 

“This was easier when it was just…” 

“A snog on the couch?” Louis finishes the sentence for him, and Harry blushes furiously.

“I wouldn’t have put it quite like that,” he says, fiddling with his shirt. Louis notices that it’s a nice button down, looks like silk almost. Maybe it is. Louis doesn’t think he has ever seen a silk shirt in real life to know the difference. 

“Of course you wouldn’t.” Louis grins at him. “You would have said something like made out or kissed or hooked up. Whatever people say down there.” 

Harry barely contains a giggle. “I think a hookup is more sex than just kissing.” 

“Whatever you say,”  Louis replies. He sets the food on the table and serves two plates while it’s hot. He doesn’t think that he can eat a bite of food. His nerves are twisting his gut so tightly, but he has to at least give it a shot. This was his idea after all. 

“So.” Harry fiddles with his fork, looking entirely uncomfortable.

“So,” Louis answers, chewing slowly on his roll to avoid having to start a conversation. They catch each other’s eye, and suddenly it’s all a bit silly. They burst out laughing at the same time. 

“This is ridiculous.” Harry shakes his head, the long hairs around his ears settle on his temples. 

“Ain’t it.” Louis smiles. “We are grown men. I think we could at least talk about the weather.” 

“It’s cold. It is always cold,” Harry deadpans causing Louis to laugh loudly again. 

“Might be,” he says. “What’s the weather like where you are from?” He asks, not really feeling like he is talking about the weather at all.

“Warmer. But at the same time colder.” Harry pauses, as though he is remembering something. It’s clear that Harry isn’t talking about the weather anymore either. 

“How’s that?” Louis prompts. 

“I’m from Maine. I might have mentioned. But I went to New York as soon as I had enough money saved. I wanted to be a songwriter. And I was. Even made some money. It all went to my head really quickly, and I realised that I was writing to make money, not music. I mean, it’s great to do both, but the music is the important part. People stopped looking at my songs, and I was losing clients. I felt like my career was over at the tender age of twenty five.” Harry pauses to play with the food on his plate again. 

“And then?” Louis asks, enraptured in Harry’s slow and calculated story. 

“And then I got advice by the best person to ever give any.” He pauses dramatically before he smiles. “My mother.” 

Louis giggles into his hand very much involuntarily. “She told me to get away from it. Get as far away from that lifestyle as I could find. I think she was hoping that Maine would be far enough, but somehow I kept going. Went to New Brunswick, Nova Scotia, even PEI for a month. Now here I am.” Harry shrugs. 

“Have you found it?” Louis asks. 

“What?” 

“Have you found your music?” Louis places his cheek on his hand. Harry stares at him, like he’s studying him. It’s almost unsettling. 

“Not yet,” he replies simply, not elaborating in the slightest. “What about you?” 

“Ummmm.” Louis raises an eyebrow. “I don’t write music.” 

“No.” Harry chuckles, shaking his head. “Have you found….your thing? The thing that makes you happy? The thing that you want to do, be?” Harry waves his hand around dramatically, clearly wrapped up in a moment of his own memories of feeling that very thing. 

“Yeah,” Louis says quietly, but with confidence. Harry waits for him to elaborate, but just saying fishing seems lacking in how it feels to be out on the water. The camaraderie of the crew, the feeling of freedom, but also the purpose he feels. The feeling he gets when he in living his thing is too much to just explain in words, so he just smiles. “I’m pretty happy here.”  

“You look like you are happy, content.” Harry smiles. It’s a simple statement but it makes Louis blush for reasons that he can’t quite understand. 

“You look…” He gives Harry an obvious once over before meeting his eyes. There’s a hunger there that he could get lost in.

“Have you had enough to eat?” Harry asks, not concealing his want any longer.

“Yeah,” Louis barely whispers and stands at almost exactly the same time Harry does. Their mouths crash together in the middle of the kitchen, hands searching out one another’s backs and heads. It slows down to something less desperate before Harry pulls away slightly, his lips barely graze Louis’. His eyelashes flutter against Louis’ cheek. 

“How do you feel about putting out on the first date,” Harry rumbles against his skin, and it sends a shiver down his back that seems to travel straight to his dick.

“Feeling pretty good about it right now,” Louis replies, stepping even closer into Harry’s space. They kiss again. Louis wants to explore Harry’s entire body with his tongue before Harry pulls away again. 

“How do you feel about a second date?” He asks, staring into Louis’ eyes with his glass green eyes, so earnest and vulnerable.

“And a third and a fourth,” Louis replies, pulling him towards his bedroom by the hand. Harry strips his shirt first, and immediately covers himself. 

“Jesus, it’s cold in here,” he says, covering his nipples with his hands. 

“Sorry,” Louis replies, but he can’t say much else because Harry’s entire torso is covered in tattoos, and they are fucking hot. 

“You don’t look sorry.” Harry smirks, watching Louis ogle him. 

“I can start a fire,” Louis replies, not bothering to look up from his studying. That is until Harry moves into his space, reaching for the hem of his shirt and pulling up gently. 

“I would rather keep you warm myself,” he breathes into Louis’ ear and pulls his shirt over his head. Louis reaches out and touches Harry’s hip, tracing the tattoo that reaches almost down to his pelvis. It causes goosebumps to spread over his skin and his breath to hitch. 

Without a word, Louis lowers himself onto his knees so that he can kiss the spot that he just touched. Harry immediately sinks his fingers gently into Louis’ hair. He looks up at Harry who is looking right back at him with a stare so intense that it almost makes Louis lose his nerve. 

“Louis,” Harry breathes. 

“This alright?” He asks, reaching for Harry’s belt. Harry just nods. Louis undoes his belt and slowly pulls at the side of Harry’s jeans.-

Harry grunts suddenly when his cock is sprung free. Louis gets his pants down mid thigh before he puts his mouth around the tip of his erection.

“Fuck, Louis,” Harry hisses, throwing his head back. Louis takes it as a cue to continue and makes his way down, hitting the back of his throat. He pulls back slightly and starts to make slow movements back and forth, letting his tongue roam over the shaft of Harry’s hard dick.

“Louis Louis Louis,” Harry repeats, rocking in and out of Louis’ mouth ever so slightly. Louis grabs the back of Harry’s thighs to keep his balance. “I’m not going to last.” 

Harry gasps as Louis takes him even deeper. Harry groans loud and long but pulls away and croaks out, “Don’t want to come yet.” 

He pulls Louis to his feet and kisses him. Louis hesitates because he literally just had a dick in his mouth, but Harry doesn’t seem to care. Harry reaches down and grabs for Louis’ button, pulling his own jeans down to his knees. Suddenly, his bare skin is touching the hot wet skin of Harry’s erection, and Louis can’t help but buck his hips forwards in search of friction. 

Harry pushes both of them towards the bed, and they land in a tangle of arms and legs, still rutting against one another desperately. Harry reaches between them and takes them both in his hand, which pulls a low moan from Louis. 

“Feel good?” Harry pants, moving his hand roughly over both of their straining cocks. 

“Mmhmhm.” Louis replies. He is too focused on the feeling that is building deep in his gut. 

“Wanna make you come like this,” Harry mumbles against Louis’ skin. It’s quite clear that they are both close, almost in their own heads while wrapped up in one another’s bodies. 

Louis bucks up repeatedly, feeling like it has been an eternity but at the same time over far too quickly, and comes with a guttural cry as Harry works over them both through it. It doesn’t take long before Harry is coming, too, and they both fall limp and panting against one another not even having gotten fully undressed. 

Once Louis can feel his toes again, he shifts carefully so that he can see Harry’s face more clearly. He isn’t surprised to see Harry watching him right back. 

“That was unexpected,” he murmurs. He sounds sleepy and unsure all at once. 

“Really?” Louis smirks. “Because I didn’t really know how else the evening was going to go.” 

This makes Harry chuckle. “I was trying to behave myself.” Harry moves to sit. The task is made more difficult by this pants being snug against his calves. 

“You were a perfect gentleman, love. You just decided to go on a date with a dirty bastard.” Louis stands up too and pulls his pants up in one go. It’s not comfortable. He is a mess, but he is in his own home and Harry isn’t, so he makes his way to the bathroom to get something to help him clean up. 

When he comes back, Harry is exactly where he was when he left. Louis doesn’t miss the shift in his expression when he looks at Louis. “I wanted to woo you. Properly,” Harry says, taking the cloth and trying to be discreet in getting himself sorted. 

“Harry.” Louis sits down beside him on the bed again, feet tucked up under his thighs. “Do you know what I said to Niall the first time I met you?” 

Harry shakes his head, but he smirks at Niall’s name. “I told him that I was in love. Now obviously that was tongue in cheek. I don’t actually believe in love at first sight, but I have been smitten with you since the moment I laid eyes on you. And I see how you look at me. I know that you feel the same.” 

“Smitten?” Harry mocks him in a bad newfie accent. Louis just smiles stupidly because he is. He is so so smitten. 

“As a kitten,” he replies and kisses Harry gently on the lips. 

Harry returns the kiss and it feels so sweet and soft that Louis wants to frame it and put it on his night stand. “Are you leaving me?” He asks against Harry’s skin, not quite willing to let him go yet. 

“I should probably head home. I have the breakfast shift.” Harry hangs onto Louis too. They sit there for a moment. 

“Breakfast sounds good,” Louis finally says. 

“It does,” Harry concedes. Louis can hear the smile in his voice. 

“Maybe I will see you there then. For breakfast I mean.”

“I could think of worse ways of starting my day.” 

“Maybe I will bring Niall,” Louis muses, making Harry laugh loudly. 

“You do that. I will be there.” Harry finally stands and waits for Louis to walk him to the door. 

“Thank you for the lovely date,” Louis says at the door.

“Thank you for the dinner,” Harry replies.

“And the orgasm,” Louis adds. 

“And the orgasm,” Harry parrots. 

“And the promise of another date.” 

“An embarrassment of riches. Also, you are stalling,” he says a little softer, cupping Louis’ face. 

“Fine, fine. Get out of here. I will see you in the morning if it doesn’t snow.” 

“The snow plays a factor?” Harry glances towards where you can actually see the top of the pub roof form Louis’ front door. Louis laughs, pushing Harry out the door. 

“Lesson one here. The weather plays a factor in everything!”  

“Bye Louis!” Harry waves from the driveway. Louis watches him get into his car and doesn’t leave the doorway until his lights are out of sight of Louis. 

He glances in the mirror on the way to the shower and tries to control the ridiculous smile that is plastered on his face. “I am so screwed,” he says to himself. His face doesn’t seem to care.

  
  
  


It’s still dark as Harry helps Liam set up for breakfast. He isn’t going to lie, he is not at all a morning person, but Liam’s naturally chipper nature starts to rub off on him as he greets a few bleary eyed customers. 

“Looking for something?” Liam smirks at Harry after about the tenth time Harry’s head whips towards the door. Harry can feel his cheeks heat up at being caught out.

“No...nothing,” Harry mumbles, rubbing down the table that he was clearing. He can feel Liam’s eyes on him, and when he glances his way, he sees Liam smiling and shaking his head as he serves an older couple. 

It’s not that Harry doesn’t think that Louis will show up. He is quite confident that the feeling between them is entirely mutual. He has just been on edge since he left Louis’ house the night before. He feels like a child waiting for Santa to come on Christmas eve. The anticipation of seeing Louis again made it nearly impossible to sleep, or eat, or even pay attention when the ever patient Liam tries to teach him any of his job. He feels like a bit of an idiot jumping every time he hears a noise. 

“Did you forget I was coming?” A voice speaks almost directly in his ear, and he almost drops the pitcher of water that he is holding. 

He turns quickly to see a fresh looking Louis, smiling sweetly at him, hands in the pockets of his blue jeans and a fluffy but weathered winter coat hanging open. 

“No, no of course not.” Harry attempts a recovery. “I have done nothing but stare at the door since we opened.” 

Louis’ eyes widen slightly, and his cheeks tinge pink. “Oh, I should have told you what time I would be around. I was hoping that if I came in a little later then your hard ass boss would let you join me.” He throws a cheeky grin at Liam who was definitely close enough to hear the abuse. 

“You know that I would have. At least I would have got some work out of him if you showed up a little earlier,” Liam sasses, leaving Harry feeling like a complete fool. Before he has a chance to apologize, Louis’ voice is filling the air, louder than Harry has ever heard him speak. 

“Liam, that’s really bloody offensive!” Louis shouts across the room. Harry winces at the volume, but no one else in the room seems to pay him any mind. “You owe Harry here an apology for slaving over your work all morning while you slack off chatting up the customers! I can’t even believe that you would say that out loud when I myself have found you more than once napping in the storage room when you were supposed to be cooking my food!” 

Liam just waves as he walks back into the kitchen, and Louis regains his calm and friendly demeanor. 

“You didn’t have to do that,” Harry whispers. 

Louis shrugs noncommittally. “Sometimes Liam needs to be reminded that the words that come out of his mouth affect people besides himself.” 

“Do you think he will be mad?” Harry looks towards the kitchen, He can see Liam hunched over the counter preparing something. He’s not sure he can look him in the eye again after this morning. 

“No one’s mad love.” Louis smiles. 

“It was forgotten before it even started. Just taking the piss mostly. It’s all fine,” Louis says as Harry looks back again at Liam who is laughing with his mom over a cup of tea. “Now, are you going to make me breakfast? Or do I have to risk Liam spitting in my food?” 

“I’ll make it!” Harry jumps, realising where he is again and what he is supposed to be doing. Liam wasn’t wrong. He has been a mess.  “Let me cook for you. As a thank you for last night.” 

Louis immediately smirks and eyes Harry up and down. “Don’t worry about it. Free of charge.” 

“For dinner Louis!” Harry wants to touch him, which makes him very aware that he is holding someone's’ water pitcher. “Shit. I have to go. Let me cook for you, don’t move, or yes move, sit down, but don’t leave. I will be back!” He calls over his shoulder as he makes his way towards the incredibly patient customers and then into the kitchen to take a much needed breath.

 

“So you were waiting for me.” There is a small smile on Louis’ face, and his fingers are dancing idly on the edge of the table. Harry puts a large plate of food in front of him, filled with just about every breakfast food that Harry could fit within reason. Even then, looking at Louis’ slender frame, he wonders if he overdid it. Louis doesn’t even look at the plate, intent on staring at Harry, who is growing increasingly antsy under the scrutiny. 

“Of course I was waiting for you, you said that you were coming,” Harry attempts to joke, but it sounds more desperate than funny. Louis smile creeps higher up his cheeks until Harry cracks. He laughs out loud, throwing his head back. 

“I can’t help it!” He whines a little louder than he intended. “You are a hard person to forget thinking about.” 

Louis’ smiles so bright that his eyes close tight. 

“Same,” he replies, finally sticking a fork into his over easy eggs. After taking a bite or two, he finally looks back up at Harry, the smile less blinding, but his eyes are bright as ever. He nods, almost to himself. “Same.” He says again and keeps eating. 

  
  


Payne’s is filled on Friday night with the usual crowd. Louis and Harry walk in at about seven after having a quiet dinner at home. Louis takes up his usual seat, and Harry leans against the bar beside him. 

“Well well well.” Niall sidles up to them, hands on his hips. “Nice to see you crawled out of your den.” 

“Niall, I saw you this morning.” Louis levels him a look. “And you said the same thing then.” 

“I saw him an hour ago at the grocery store...” Harry adds, leaning into Louis. 

“Don’t talk about me like I’m not even here!” Niall retorts with a pout, staring at them expectantly. “I am a human being you know. I have feelings.” 

“So sorry Niall. You are under appreciated and over looked, and we didn’t know what we were doing by abandoning you to spend alone time together. Whatever were we thinking.” Louis’ voice drips with sarcasm. Harry coughs a little to cover his laugh. 

“You weren’t thinking. That is the problem,” Niall scolds them both. “Only one thing on your minds, both of you.” 

“We weren’t even-” Harry’s voice pitches up, trying to defend his own honour, but Louis just lays a hand on his and gives a slight shake of his head. Apparently, this isn’t a battle that they will fight. 

“Anyway!” Louis interjects. “ How is your mum? Has she let go of that nasty cold yet?”

“Yeah, much better. Thank God, she’s got that cruise coming up at the end of the month.” 

“Oh right! That’s coming right up isn’t it? God, to be her next week. Tropical sun, fruity drinks, tanned men, slathered in sunscreen.” 

“Hey!” Harry and Niall say in unison, causing Louis to laugh. Niall gives Louis a half hearted punch on the arm while Harry blushes furiously at the sudden outburst of jealousy. Louis just smiles sweetly at him though and pats him on the hand again, only this time he doesn’t move his hand away and lets his pinky finger curl around Harry’s palm. 

“Sorry!” Just fantasizing about warmer temperatures. This winter is flying by though.” He sneaks a smirk at Harry who can’t help but forgive him immediately and smile right back. 

“Shit, I guess it is. My birthday is next week,” he says as he suddenly realises it. He feels somewhat guilty as he sees the range of panic that goes across Louis’ face at the mention of a birthday.

“A birthday!” Niall booms. “We need to have a party!” Niall starts to bounce up and down. He looks around as though a cake and balloons are going to magically appear or something. 

“I wouldn’t think that you of all people would be the one who would want a party for Harry’s birthday.” 

“Why the fuck not?” Niall looks at Louis as though he has two heads. 

“You haven’t exactly been nice to Harry since he has arrived here,” Louis says carefully. Niall scoffs, but doesn’t actually argue. 

“Everyone needs a birthday party, Louis,” Niall replies. He peers at Harry with suspicion. “Do you even have birthday parties where you come from?” 

“You know that he does,” Louis responds for him. 

“Not like here.” Niall crosses his arms, looking smug. 

“I am sure that they are nothing like here,” Harry concedes, making Niall finally smile, however smug it looks. 

“Damned right,” Niall says and walks away as abruptly as he walked in. 

 

The night of the party, Louis is sitting on Harry’s bed while Harry tries to tame the wild mess on top of his head. 

“Why are we calling this a party again?” Harry looks at Louis through the mirror on his wall. “Aren’t we just going to be doing the exact same thing we do every Thursday night?” 

Louis considers what Harry has said and nods reluctantly. “Technically yes. But at the same time no.” 

“Well that explains everything,” Harry deadpans, causing Louis to make a sassy face at him. 

“It’s a celebration. People want to wish you happiness and love and a good year. It’s festive. Plus, there is cake.” 

“Cake?” Harry perks up at this. “I get cake?” 

“Of course you do love, it’s your birthday. Liam went all the way to the Saint John’s for it. Got one of those fancy ones from the store and everything.” Louis smiles, watching Harry’s cheeks turn pink and his face go into an adorable scrunch. 

“Well what are we waiting for then?” Harry asks, whipping his old faded Rolling Stones shirt off, and reaching for a light silky thing that had been hanging off the back of his chair. Louis tries not to ogle him, but it must be pretty obvious what he is doing because Harry is smiling at him knowingly. 

“You look nice,” Louis says, still not looking directly at Harry for fear of his entire body going up in flames. 

“Thanks,” Harry replies. The air is suddenly charged with unsaid things and unknown feelings. “You look nice, too.” 

Louis clears his throat, smiling. “Let’s then. We don’t want to anger the party God.”

“Yes, we don’t want to piss off Niall do we?” Harry replies, laughing. He slips his hand into Louis’ and gives him a small, private smile. Louis replies by squeezing his hand tight against him as the head out into the cold.

  
  


Harry was definitely wrong about one thing. This is no normal Thursday night. When they walk into the pub it is almost full to the brim with people, music blasts from the ancient stereo in the back, and there are various mismatched decorations littering just about every available surface. When Harry steps through the door, a mass of cheers and shouts of Harry’s name greet him. 

“What is this?” Louis asks as Liam greets them from behind the bar. 

“I don’t know b’y. Niall’s been on a rampage all day. Taken right over the entire place.” Liam laughs as he looks at.

“He never threw a party for me before. I’m his best friend!” Louis looks around for the man in question. He’s curiously absent from the festivities. 

“I don’t know man. It’s like the devil himself have possessed him. Must have been a long winter for him, that’s all I can think.”  Liam shakes his head as he sets Louis and Harry’s drinks on the bar. “Free drinks for the birthday boy!” 

“You have never given me free drinks on my birthday!” Louis is actually indignant now. He has been betrayed by his own people. 

“We aren’t even open on Christmas eve.” Liam levels him a look 

“Still.” Louis turns his back to him, looking at all of the other traitors who are celebrating a practical stranger’s day of birth. “Honestly Harry, the nerve.” 

When he doesn’t get a response, he looks to his right to find an empty space. “Great, even Harry has left me,” he says to himself, scanning the crowd looking for a particular familiar face. 

“Lou! Over here!” He hears Harry’s deep drawl over the din. He picks his way through the crowd, trying not to get caught up in conversations and greetings. When he makes it to the back of the pub, Harry is set up right in between the two old pool tables and sat on a mechanical bull. 

“What the hell?” Louis looks around at the scene. Harry is sitting on the back of the bull that was definitely not there the last time Louis was back here. Niall and Jake are standing off the side, smiling maniacally while Niall holds a big black box with a bunch of smaller switches on it. 

“Niall got me a mechanical bull!” Harry beams. He’s practically bouncing on the stationary object. 

“It’s actually Jakes.” Niall corrects Harry, but is still smiling wide. “We are just borrowing it for the party.”

“Where in the hell did you get a mechanical bull, Jake?” Louis eyes him suspiciously, but Jake just laughs. 

“It was my dad’s. He bought if off some midway show. It’s been collecting dust in the garage for years,” Jake replies. Him and Niall are both looking at Louis expectantly, as if they are waiting for him to object. 

“Does it work?” He asks. They both nod their heads frantically. “Well, what are you waiting for then?” 

“You don’t mind us flinging Harry ‘round?” Niall asks. Louis would laugh if he didn’t see that Niall was serious. 

“Why would that be up to me?” Louis raises a brow at all of them. 

“I just don’t want to be on the receiving end of your wrath if I break your boyfriend,” Niall scoffs. Jake seems to agree, taking a subtle step back. 

Louis looks at Harry who is looking back at him. His ears are red, and he is sitting perfectly still except the twitch of his fingers. They had never talked about boyfriends, but by the look on Harry’s face, Louis can tell that it’s definitely something that he has been thinking about. Louis almost feels a little sick that Harry looks nervous right now. Apparently, he needs to tell him exactly how he feels. 

”You should be. One hair of my boyfriend’s head out of place, and you have me to answer to,” he says to Niall and Jake, but still looking at Harry. Harry doesn’t move at all for a moment before swinging his leg over the bull and coming towards Louis, mouth first, enveloping him into a kiss. He happily returns both the kiss and the embrace. 

“We lost them,” Niall sighs behind them. 

“Yeah,” Jake replies. 

“We should probably at least enjoy the party,” Harry says into Louis’ lips. Louis groans in protest. 

“But I have a boyfriend now,” he pouts.

“And you will after the party is over. But Niall is actually being nice to me, and I want to enjoy it.” Harry pulls away and smiles. It’s beautiful, and Louis wants to memorize it. But he sighs, and pulls away as well. He looks at the storm cloud that is Niall and puts his hands up in surrender. 

“He’s all yours, boys. I’m going to find a bite to eat.” 

“Yay!” Niall shouts as Harry jumps back on the bull. Louis shakes his head and seeks out the only sane person in the pub, Liam.

 

Louis can’t say that he hasn't seen Harry all night. Their paths cross several times throughout the evening, but it’s chaotic and loud, and usually with a brief kiss that feels cold and wet from the icy beer in Harry’s hand. But when it’s all over and Liam is practically begging people to go home Harry plops down beside him with a thud, leaning heavily on Louis’ side. he lets Harry’s head lean against his shoulder. 

“This has been...the...best…..birth...bir...party I have ever had.” Harry’s voice is way too loud, still speaking as though there were a hundred or so people in the small space. Louis pats him on the thigh. 

“I am so glad, love,” he replies. Fatigue is starting to settle into his bones, but he smiles anyway. 

“Did you have the greatest time Lou? The greatest?” Harry rambles. His eyes are closed, or at least the one that Louis can see is. 

“The greatest,” Louis agrees. 

“Know why I had the best time ever in my life, Louis?” 

“Why’s that?” Louis closes his eyes as well and pretends that he doesn’t have to get this lump all the way home soon. There is no way either of them are driving. 

“You like me,” Harry says softly. 

“Yes, I do,” Louis replies, waiting for the punchline. “Why did you have a great time though?” 

“You like me and want to be my boyfriend. Best gift ever, Lou. Best party,” Harry sighs and burrows farther into Louis side while Louis ponders Harry’s words. 

“I’m not that much of a prize, H. Ask anyone,” he says, poking Harry’s cheek lightly. 

“Don’t do that. Don’t put yourself down. You have made me so happy,” Harry says. He’s still in some sort of dream state, but the words are sobering to Louis. 

“I don’t think I have ever felt this way before,” Louis finally confesses. The words seem to have his entire existence wrapped in them. He holds his breath waiting for Harry to process them. 

Harry sits up and stares at him. Face to face it seems even more terrifying of a confession. Harry’s eyes study his face for a moment, his expression doesn’t give much away aside from thoughtful enquiry. 

“It’s only been a month. Less than,” Harry says. Louis nods slowly. Harry licks his lips, but never breaks eye contact. “But I know that I love you.” He says it with such finality, and the entire world melts away leaving just the two of them, sitting on worn barstools, nose to nose, breathing each other’s air. 

“You are sure?” Louis asks. It almost sounds desperate, but he craves to hear Harry say it again.

“I have never been so sure of anything in my life,” Harry says, causing a whimper to escape unwillingly from Louis’ lips. “You don’t have to be sure, Lou, that’s okay. But know that I am so so sure.” 

“I love you, too, Harry,” Louis barely whispers, bringing their lips together finally. It feels like it has been decades since Louis has tasted Harry’s lips. He wants to drink him in. 

“Best birthday ever,” Harry whispers to him. Suddenly, their world is burst apart by an abrupt banging behind them that is Liam putting beer mugs on a shelf so loudly that Louis is surprised they haven’t broken. 

“I think we should take the hint babe,” Louis says to Harry who nods and delicately stands up again, testing his legs like a baby deer learning to walk. 

“Can I proposition a beautiful birthday boy home to a warm bed and breakfast in the morning?” He holds out his hand for Harry, who takes it immediately. 

“Sounds like my kind of night,” Harry says with a contented sigh.

“It is technically morning and no longer your birthday!” Liam calls out behind them. 

“Fucking finally.” Louis hears him grumble when they open the door into the cold February night.

 

Louis lets the truck idle outside of Liam and Harry’s house so as to not let the cold settle back into the cab. He steps carefully over the iced driveway, silently reminding himself to buy a bag of salt for the freezing rain that is due in the next few days. 

He taps lightly on the front door and listens for footsteps coming towards him. 

“How’s she cuttin?” Liam greets him with a smile. He makes a space and lets Louis through the door. 

“Best kind,” Louis replies automatically. “How’s she fairing?” 

“Never better,” Liam says. “You and Harry goin’ into town are ya?” 

“Yeah, it’s the 19th, gotta get the papers out.” 

“Ah that’s right, month’ll be over soon enough.” Liam reaches for his boots. “Gotta get to the pub, have a good one.” 

“Watch for that driveway, you’ll split your head open walking on that thing!” Louis calls after him and turns back to see Harry leaning against the wall, studying him. “Hey there love, ready to go?” 

“Why don’t you ever talk to me like that?” Harry smiles at him. 

“Like what?” 

“Cutting and fairing, and all of the other words in between that I didn’t understand.”  Harry comes closer to greet Louis as he normally does with a soft kiss. 

“Well you answered that one for yourself, didn’t you?” Louis kisses him again. “You don’t understand half of what anyone is saying.” 

“I feel like you are speaking some secret language to keep me in the dark,” Harry pouts. 

“That is not the case and you know it. I’m sure you speak to your friends from home different than you speak to me.”

“I wish we had a secret language.” Harry creeps warm fingers under the hem of Louis’ t shirt and strokes his hip gently. 

“I can’t tell if you are jealous or turned on right now.” Louis leans into Harry’s touch. 

“A little of both.” Harry breathes Louis in for another moment before he takes a step back. “Maybe if I stay long enough I will get to learn your mysterious ways.”

“Mmm, you talking about staying here turns me on a bit.” Louis chases Harry’s lips as he moves away. 

“Aren’t we supposed to be going somewhere?” Harry smirks at him as he pulls his boots on. Now it’s Louis’ turn to pout. He gets satisfaction from the small gasp that he gets from Harry when he pinches his bum on the way out the door.

 

“You are taking me to run errands?” Harry gives Louis an unimpressed look from the passenger seat of the truck. 

“I am bringing you on a scenic drive and to keep me company,” Louis corrects, unbothered by Harry’s tone. 

“Keep you company while you are running errands.” 

“I am delivering papers for me mum. Technically, it’s work, but I thought you might like to go into town for the afternoon.” Louis smiles as angelically as he can, although it doesn’t seem to be having an affect on Harry at all. “I will take you out for lunch.” 

Harry rolls his eyes. “Probably write it off as a business expense.” 

“So what were you expecting when I called and asked if you wanted to hang out for the afternoon?” Louis frowns at the road, dodging potholes every now and then. He can see Harry shrug his shoulders when it dawns on him, sadly a bit belatedly. “You thought I was taking you out on a date.” 

“Usually when your boyfriend calls to take you out, it’s on a date, yes.” Harry raises his nose slightly, staring out the passenger window. 

“Ah, love. I’m sorry. I just thought it would be a nice day on the town that’s all. I didn’t mean to disappoint you.” Louis reaches for Harry’s hand and is relieved when Harry curls his fingers around his own. 

“It’s fine.” Harry’s voice warms. Louis squeezes his hand. “It’s just--we have never really gone out besides the pub. I thought it would be nice to do something different. 

“It would, of course it would.” Louis nods along. “And I should have been the one to think of that. I am the one from around here after all.” 

“It’s fine, Louis.” 

“No, it’s not. I should be taking you out. Romancing you. Can’t rest on my laurels can I? Need to keep reminding you why you want to stick around.” 

They pull into their first stop in town, and Louis turns fully to Harry once he puts the truck in drive. 

“I don’t need reminded of why I want to be with you.” Harry smiles at him. 

“Well maybe I need to show you that I can do romance. Haven’t yet have I?” 

“You made me dinner!” Harry protests. 

“I can do better than that, just wait. I will sweep you off your feet.” Louis leans forward and kisses him sweetly on the lips. Harry pulls him in to kiss him deeper, and Louis goes easily into it. “Now that we have that settled, how opposed are you to carrying a few newspapers?” 

Harry replies by pinching Louis’ nipple and gets out of the truck, grabbing a stack of papers on the way. 

 

Harry paces the short distance between the front door and the kitchen entryway as he waits for the glow of Louis’ headlights pulling into the driveway. 

“This is ridiculous,” he tells Liam, who is sipping a coffee at the small island in the middle of the kitchen. “It’s just an evening with Louis. We have done it dozens of times.” 

“So why are ya wearin’ a hole in the floor?” Liam muses, smiling slightly.

“I don’t know. I kind of put some pressure on him, and I am worried that maybe he will go out and do something stupid to impress me.” Harry jumps slightly at a noise outside. It’s not Louis. 

“What kind of pressure are we talking here? He’s not going to go buy a ring is he?” Liam looks slightly startled. 

“God no. I hope not. I just told him that a proper date would be nice, and he got all determined and told me that he was going to sweep me off my feet.” 

“Sounds like a nice problem to have if you ask me,” Liam replies. Harry immediately stops and sits down with Liam.

“I’m sorry, Liam. I’m being insensitive.” He rubs Liam’s arm, trying to comfort him. 

“It’s fine, H. I know the feeling of being worried about Louis’ crazy ideas. With anything else, I would probably share your concern, but he wouldn’t do anything that he didn’t know that you would absolutely love. I promise you that.” 

The kitchen fills with light as Louis pulls in the driveway. Liam raises his mug to Harry and smiles. “Have fun. Enjoy yourself.” 

It feels more of a piece of sage advice than a throwaway sentiment. Harry nods and rushes to the door to meet Louis.

 

They drive in relative silence through the dimly lit streets as they head out of their small town. After about five minutes, Louis takes a right instead of the left that took them to Saint John's the week before.

“Are you taking me into the forest to get rid of me?” Harry smirks at Louis who shakes his head. 

“I am not. It's only a few more minutes.” 

He rests his hand on Harry's thigh, and it sends a sense of comfort through him. It's Louis. The same Louis who randomly showed up at the bar at five am to help unload the beer supply because he ‘wasn't doing anything any’ the same Louis that has been secretly getting Liam to ask what his favourite meals are so he can learn to cook them. He has nothing to worry about with Louis. He can trust him with his life and his heart. He reaches down and covers Louis’ hand with his own and enjoys what he can see of the scenery for the rest of the drive. 

Louis was right. It was barely five minutes before suddenly the dark road opens up to a few overhead lights that illuminate a lighthouse that sits stark on a ledge. The only other thing that they can see is the dark waters of the ocean.

“Cool.” Harry smiles. It looks like there isn’t a soul anywhere around the place. Everything is dark except the few overhead lights and the lighthouse itself, shining a slow path over the water. 

“Come on.” Louis tells him, opening the car door. The wind instantly cools the entire cab of the truck, and Harry huddles further into his coat. Louis waits for him with a mischievous smile on his face. When Harry gets to the front of the truck, Louis takes his hand, and they walk the small path that is plowed out towards the lighthouse itself. 

“What is this?” Harry asks. 

“Just wait,” Louis replies tugging on his hand. They end up walking past the lighthouse. The path gets considerably more narrow, and the light drops suddenly, only able to see in front of them when the light swivels past. Harry tightens his hand in Louis’, and Louis squeezes back, turning to smile silently. 

Finally, they get to the end of the shoveled space, and Louis turns towards him. Harry looks around at a lot of nothing and looks back at Louis expectantly. 

“Ok, trade me places,” Louis says, and they turn in the narrow path so that Harry is facing land, and Louis is facing the sea. It does look less dark when he is facing towards the lighthouse, but no less confusing. 

“Ok so this…” Louis points to the ground where Harry is standing. “ Is the most eastern point in all of North America.” Louis smiles like a child at Christmas, and suddenly Harry feels a lot different about their random road trip. He looks around again at the ocean, then looks towards Louis. 

“Wow,” he says. “This is the farthest we can go?” Louis chuckles.

“As far as we can go without plunging into the ocean.” Louis turns his back and faces land again. “So we are facing the entirety of Canada right now.” 

“And the United States,” Harry reminds him. Louis snorts quietly, and Harry tickles his ribs for it. “This is amazing. Thank you for bringing me here.” 

“There is more!” He exclaims and takes Harry hand again. They make their way back down the path. They stop at the lighthouse where this is another path towards a small door. Louis makes his way towards it, and Harry suddenly feels nervous. 

“Are we even supposed to be here?” He asks Louis as he opens the door. 

“Yes, it’s ok.” Louis waves him in. Harry hesitates for only a second before he decides to trust Louis and follow. 

When they walk in, Louis flicks a light, and suddenly the small room is illuminated. It looks just like Harry would imagine an old lighthouse on the edge of the worlds would look. There is a small table and various pieces of fishing equipment hung on the wall. The whole interior is white except a set of bright red metal stairs that spiral upwards. 

“Come on,” Louis says before he starts climbing the stairs. Harry feels a bit that he is on an adventure. He follows Louis closely, feeling his enthusiasm rub off. 

It's not a great distance to the top, but when they get there, it is a bit overwhelming. The glass all around them allows them to see as far as the lighthouse light travels. They stand in silence for a few moments, looking at the water. When Harry glances at Louis, he looks almost lost in the view. 

“Miss being out there?” He ventures a guess. He sees Louis’ mouth lift into a smile before Louis turns back to him. 

“I wish I could explain what it feels like. For me anyway. It's like a spell comes over us. We are drawn to it. The breaking waves are a siren call.” He looks back out for a minute before he shakes himself. “Come on. One more thing.” 

They walk around the light that is radiating just the right amount of heat, and Louis pulls out a few blankets and a basket.

“You made a picnic.” Harry almost wants to make fun. “How did you manage all of this?”

“I traded favours with the guy who takes care of this place in the winter.” Louis smirks. Harry stills uncontrollably. 

“Favours?” He repeats, and it causes Louis to laugh out loud. 

“Oh my God, Harry. It doesn't take much.” He shakes out the blanket on the floor. “We kept it PG. I promise. I am plowing out his grandma for free for the rest of the winter.”

Harry pouts at being teases. “I didn't say anything.” 

“Mhm.” Louis rolls his eyes. “Didn't have to, did ya?” 

“Sorry,” he mumbles.

“Don't be. I think it's hot.” Louis puts down the basket and wraps his arms around Harry's waist. Harry leans down automatically and kisses Louis. 

“I'll keep that in mind,” Harry growls and gets closer into Louis’ space, melting into his body.

“There is food,” he mumbles against Harry’s lips, but runs his hand along the hem of Harry’s shirt, grazing his bare skin. Harry’s entire body erupts in goosebumps.

“Can I propose food after?” Harry asks, seeking the soft underside of Louis’ jaw. It illicites a delicious noise that Harry takes as a yes.

  
  


Harry looks out the passenger window of Louis’ truck. There is still a decent amount of snow on the ground, but when the sun peers out from behind the clouds, he can feel it’s strength through the glass. He looks towards Louis who is smiling in a now familiar way. 

“So is this the time you are going to take me out and get rid of me?” He asks, amusing himself with the way it makes Louis roll his eyes.

“Why do you always assume that I am trying to off you?” 

“Because you are constantly taking me places and not telling me where or why,” Harry replies. It is both an endearing and frustrating habit of his. 

“It’s a surprise.” Louis’ eyes spark with mischief.

“Oh, just like it was a surprise last week when we suddenly showed up on a preschool field trip to that dairy farm?” Harry arches an eyebrow at Louis who he knows can’t see, but hopes he can sense.

“You had fun,” Louis says. 

“A little warning would have been nice.” Harry pouts. “I got poop on my shoes.” 

“Mum needed someone to fill in for her, or the twins would have missed the trip. And what is better than one helper? Two.” Louis reasons. “So you had fun feeding a baby cow, gained points with my mother, and allowed my beautiful brother and sister a memorable moment in their tender youth. Everyone wins.” 

“Your mother loves me. I am in no need of points with her.” Harry crosses his arms and sniffs. 

“Mhm,” Louis replies, but Harry can tell that he is not succeeding at all in making him feel guilty. “Anyway, this isn’t a field trip. It is a surprise just for you, and you will love it.” Louis explains. 

“You’re going to feel sorry that you gave me so much shit,” he adds, sounding very smug.

“I will take that into consideration,” he replies, smiling. 

 

It is over an hour later that Louis wakes Harry up from a light snooze. He shakes his leg and whispers his name once Harry is somewhat conscious. “We are here, H.”

“Ok, Tomlinson. Wow me.” Harry stretches, still with half closed eyes. Looking at the clock, he sees that they have driven for almost two hours. 

Louis doesn’t reply, just points towards the passenger window. Harry looks out and is instantly awed by what he sees. They are parked at the side of a road. All that seems to be near them is a small farmhouse and the ever present ocean beyond. What is special about this particular view though is the massive iceberg looming over all of their heads. Harry isn’t a good measure of distance, but it is at least as tall as some of the skyscrapers in New York City, but stark white and dwarfing everything else in view. 

“First big one of the season,” Louis says beside him. He is leaning in to see the top. “Spring is coming!” 

 

Louis finds them a spot on a small pile of boulders closer to the shore so that they can stay a little while longer. They both pretend to ignore the chilling wind that is still whipping around them as they watch both the iceberg and the passersby that have also come to see it. 

“You know what this means?” Louis asks him, still staring out towards the water.

“Global warming?” Harry replies only to get an elbow in the ribs. 

“I will be going back to work soon,” Louis answers him. Harry sees Louis is now looking at him, a small line wrinkling his forehead.

“Fishing?” 

Louis huffs a laugh shakes his head. 

“Yeah. Fishing,” he says. “It’s going to be different.” 

“Okay,” Harry says. The mood between them feels suddenly sombre, and Harry isn’t sure he knows what to do with it. 

“That’s alright,” he adds for good measure. 

“I know that.” Louis smiles a small smile and reaches for Harry’s hand. “It will just be different. We had almost five months of spending every moment together. It’s going to change.” 

Harry nods, feeling a bit disappointed himself. He had not thought of that. “It won’t change me and you.” 

Louis smiles brighter at that and leans in to kiss Harry on the lips. “I will be gone for days at a time. I’m going to miss you.” 

“I will miss you, too.”

“But I miss being on the water so much right now that I am tempted to just jump in right now,” Louis says with an ache in his voice that Harry can’t quite place. 

“I hope you don’t feel guilty for missing the ocean because you are leaving me behind,” Harry says, feeling like he might be coming closer to the storm brewing in Louis’ mind. He can see Louis’ shoulders relax as he lets out a long breath. 

“A little, but I also feel a bit guilty that a part of me doesn’t want to leave you.” 

“Well, I am not getting on one of those boats, so you can’t have it both ways.” Harry laughs, trying to lighten the mood. Louis laughs, too, but swallows heavily and squeezes Harry’s hand even harder. 

“I am going to ask you something, and I don’t want you to answer right now. I want you to really think about it and decide maybe once you know how it will be when I’m on the water.” Louis is rambling at a fast pace. 

“Okay,” Harry says, feeling his heart drop to his stomach with every word. Louis stops talking long enough to look Harry in the eye and take a breath. 

“I was hoping that you would consider moving in with me,” Louis says and quickly turns away towards the water again. Harry’s brain works to catch up with his request, a quick yes on his lips before Louis turns again and puts a finger on his mouth, essentially shutting him up. 

“Think first. Please,” he says and doesn’t take the finger away until Harry nods in agreement. 

“I love you, Lou,” he says instead, and Louis moves into his arms, wrapping him in a tight hold. 

“I love you, too, Harry. So much.” 

  
  


Louis pulls into the parking lot of Payne’s at six pm sharp. 

“Good timing,” Harry says to him, unbuckling his seat belt. “I’m starving.” 

“You’re always starving,” Louis replies, following him to the front door. He doesn’t expect that large of a crowd for a Thursday night, but when he walks into the space, it’s almost deathly quiet. He looks around and sees half a dozen people gathered around the bar, staring towards the kitchen. He spots Niall and sidles up beside him. 

Niall is picking the label off his beer that looks barely touched. He is so focused on whatever they are all paying attention to that he doesn’t even respond to Louis coming up beside him. He waits for a minute, sensing Harry hovering behind him. The entire scene is a bit bizarre. 

“Niall,” he finally says after a moment of being ignored. Niall jumps a bit and looks at Louis.

“Zayn’s back,” he says, not mincing words. He looks back towards the kitchen. 

“He’s back?” Louis feels like his heart stutters. He didn’t ever expect to see Zayn again. “He’s here?” 

“Yeah, they’ve been back there for almost an hour now. There was some yelling, but now nothing,” Niall says, almost trance like. 

“Shouldn’t someone go check on them?” Harry pipes up behind Louis, making Niall jump again. “There are a lot of knives back there.” 

“Huh,” Niall says, making no move to get off his stool. “Good point.” 

“I’ll go,” Louis volunteers. He has a few things that he would like to say to the man himself. 

“I will keep an eye on the front I guess,” Harry says, stepping behind the bar and immediately cleaning up the mess Niall has made. Niall swats his hand away when Harry tries to take his drink. 

Louis takes a cautious step through the kitchen door. At first he doesn’t see anything or anyone, so he goes to Liam’s favourite hiding place as a kid and as an adult, the storage room in the back. He finds Liam sitting on a pallet of canned vegetables with his face in his hands. 

“Hey, Li,” he says gently. Liam jumps, but when he sees Louis standing there, he slumps down again. 

“Zayn’s back,” he says, sounding as miserable as he looks. 

“I heard that,” Louis says, trying to sound impassive. 

“He came back for me,” Liam continues. 

“He wants…” 

“He wants me back,” Liam says, wiping his face. “He just walked in here after a year of nothing and said that he wants me back. What the fuck.” Liam stands, and starts to pace the tiny space. Louis takes a step closer and puts his hand on Liam’s arm, trying to calm him. 

“Where is he?” He asks. 

“Probably outside having a smoke,” Liam grumbles. “He can’t just walk back into my life Louis!” 

“Is that what you told him?” Louis asks. His heart is breaking for Liam, and if he’s honest, Zayn as well. 

“I did,” Liam replies, looking at Louis again. His eyes are on the verge of tears again. Liam shakes his head, seemingly arguing with himself. “I can’t… I can’t do this again Lou.” 

“I know, I know.” He tries to soothe Liam. 

Louis doesn’t know exactly how his and Zayn’s last conversation went. Liam refused to tell him, but he does know that it left Liam almost bedridden for nearly a month. All he got from Zayn himself was a quick note on his front door telling him that he was leaving. He feels Liam’s pain in some way, but looking at him right now, he knows that it’s deeper than any hurt and worry that Zayn has caused him. 

There is a soft rap on the door of the storage room, and they both look towards the noise. Harry is standing there in a black apron with his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbow. Louis could kiss him.

“Why don’t you head home Liam? Or anywhere you want. I can close,” Harry offers.

“And I can go talk to Zayn,” Louis adds. Liam looks at them both for a second before bringing them in for a heavy embrace. 

“Thank you,” he whispers, voice hoarse and choked. “I’m going home.” 

They nod and watch him walk out the front of the bar, presumably avoiding running into Zayn again. Louis sighs as Harry hovers in the doorway still. 

“Thanks Harry,” he says. Harry just shrugs, looking worried. 

“Is he alright?” He asks. 

“I don’t know. I’m hoping Zayn will give me more answers than Liam did,” Louis says, looking towards the back door where Zayn is probably chain smoking. Louis almost hopes that he will be gone by the time he gets outside, but he doubts that will be the case. “I’ll talk to you in a bit alright?” 

“Yeah,” Harry says, giving him a quick but gentle kiss before they part ways to their separate duties.

 

Louis walks out the back door and into the dimly lit staff parking lot. He doesn’t have to look hard to find Zayn huddling against the wall. A red glow flashes as he sucks on a freshly lit smoke. He looks towards the sound of Louis coming out. His brief look of hope is replaced by disappointment. 

“You the doorman tonight? Telling me to go home?” Zayn asks, settling back into his spot against the cold brick of the building. 

“And where would that be?” Louis asks. Standing in front of his former best friend and talking as though he didn’t abandon every important person in his life is a bit surreal. “Last I checked, you didn’t live around here.” 

He doesn’t miss the pain that flashes across Zayn’s face. 

“You know I didn’t expect for everyone to be thrilled to see me,” Zayn replies, taking another drag off his cigarette, the rest of that sentence hanging heavy in the air. 

“But?” Louis asks because he is tired of unanswered questions. He’s tired of assuming. 

“I’m still me, Lou.” 

Zayn pushes off the wall and stands in front of Louis. As though asking to be inspected, he puts his arms out. 

“Yeah,” Louis says through a clenched jaw. “And you left Liam to fall apart. You left me.” 

“I had to,” Zayn practically whispers. “I was dying here. You have to know.” 

Louis would be an idiot to deny that there is a life in Zayn’s eyes now that wasn’t there the last time he saw him. The thought that Zayn was in real trouble and he didn’t see it makes his stomach hurt. 

“Louis, please.” Zayn is still standing there waiting for a reaction, waiting to be judged. 

“You fucked up so bad, Zayn.” Louis shakes his head, but he takes Zayn into his arms. Zayn goes easily, wrapping his arms around Louis’ shoulders. “I am so fucking mad at you.” 

“I know. I’m sorry,” Zayn replies, but there is a calm in his voice. Louis supposes that Zayn has already dealt with these demons before he dared step foot back into his past. He pulls back and sees the genuine smile on Zayn’s lips. 

“Liam left,” he says. Zayn’s face falls again.

“He wouldn’t even hear me out.” Zayn shakes his head, reaching for another cigarette. “He wasn’t even this mad when I left.” 

Louis can see his hands shake as he pulls a lighter out of his pocket. Louis takes the smoke from his lips and puts it behind his ear. Zayn frowns, but he doesn’t protest. “He’s going out on that fucking boat this summer.” 

“What does that have to do with anything?” Louis would laugh at the strop that Zayn has himself in if it were a different time and under different circumstances. 

“He’s going to get himself killed is what.” Zayn glares at him. 

“Worth it,” Louis says without even thinking. It’s something he has said and thought many times. If he couldn’t spend another summer on the water, his life wouldn’t be worth much as it is. 

“Why isn’t he stuck at the pub?” Zayn asks, though it’s more of an accusation. 

“Harry is taking his shifts.” Louis crosses his arms, defying Zayn to give his boyfriend shit so that his best friend can do something he loves to do. 

“Harry,” Zayn grumbles. “His new roommate.” 

“You got something to say about my boy, pal?” Louis clenches his fists. He would never punch Zayn, but sometimes he would like to. At this moment especially. “You know, you’ve got a lot of nerve walking in here and then complaining about how well we are all doing without you. Is that it? Were you hoping that the entire town would be falling apart without you? Sorry to disappoint b’y.” 

“I got nothing’ to say.” Zayn resigns his argument, sounding tired and defeated. “I’m just sad.” 

“I know.” Louis deflates, too. “Want to come to mine for a while?” 

“I’ve got nowhere else to go.” Zayn laughs without humour. 

“Well don’t make me feel special or anything.” Louis puts his arm around Zayn’s shoulders and pushes him towards his truck in the front. Zayn goes easily, leaning into Louis’ embrace. He reminds himself to send a text to Harry when he gets home. 

 

“I was sick. I realised after I left that it was anxiety. At the time, I just felt like running away from everyone and everything. I was scared all the time,” Zayn says. 

They have been talking for hours now. Harry texted him about two hours ago telling him that he was going to go home and check on Liam. He hasn’t heard from him since. He doesn’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. 

“That is why I didn’t tell you, Lou. I regret it, of course I do, but it was all in my head, telling me that I couldn’t talk to you, couldn’t talk to anyone. I was just worried all the time.” 

“Why didn’t you call me then? When you got better?” Louis asks. Accusing had turned to inquiry a while back. They have both become too tired to fight anymore. 

Zayn laughs. “I haven’t been gone that long. It’s not just something that leaves ya overnight.” 

“So how long have you felt better?” 

“A couple of months. By that time I felt that I better do it in person, apologise I mean, explain what happened. I came as soon as I could.” He looks exhausted, but isn’t backing away from anything that Louis has thrown at him. “I came as soon as I knew that I was well enough to do this.” 

Louis just nods. It’s a lot to process, and he isn’t sure he will ever fully understand it all. “Why don’t we get some sleep, maybe try to talk to Liam in the morning, yeah?”

Zayn just nods, looking at the phone on the table that hasn’t rung or pinged with a text. He gets up and gives Louis another sound hug and goes to the spare room without another word. 

 

It’s daylight when Louis wakes up the next morning, another sure sign of spring. He checks his phone and isn’t surprised, but no less pleased to see a good morning text from Harry. He still hasn’t said anything about how his talk with Liam might have gone, but Louis expects to hear the full story at supper. When he walks into the kitchen, he finds Zayn sitting at the kitchen table with a plate of food and a sketchbook in front of him. 

“Good morning,” Louis says, a little unsure. He knows that Zayn has said that things were different with him, but he guesses he didn’t really take it to heart last night. 

“You’re gawking,” Zayn muses, taking a big bite of scrambled eggs. 

“I don’t know if I have ever seen you awake this early. And eating food that I am assuming you cooked yourself,” Louis says in stilted sentences. 

He takes in everything that he had missed the night before under the dark of night and shock of his former best friend showing up in his life again. His face is filled out, not to mention his arms and chest under his thin t shirt. His eyes are bright, and his expression opened. He looks great actually. 

“It took a long time and a lot of pain to get here,” Zayn says, tone serious for just a moment before smiling again. “I made you some eggs now that you got your lazy ass out of bed.” 

Louis wraps his arms around Zayn who shrugs him off playfully. Louis holds tight though. “I’m sorry, Zayn. I didn’t know.” 

“None of that,” Zayn says, shooing Louis away. 

“So what now?” Louis can’t help but ask. “Are you going to stay?” 

Zayn shrugs and scribbles on his sketch pad some more. “I mean, there isn’t much here for me is there?” He bites the side of his cheek. A habit that he has had since he was little. Something that Louis didn’t even know that he missed until he saw Zayn do it. “You know, except the love of my life.” 

“You did him dirty, Z. Even though I know that you didn’t mean it. And I am sure that if you can explain to Liam what happened he would forgive you. But he’s still hurting, and I don’t know if that is going to just go away.” 

“I know,” Zayn replies. He plays with his food for another minute before he stands up suddenly, clearing his mess. “But I’ve got to try, and I would appreciate if you left me to it.” 

“Me?” Louis follows him to the sink to start a cup of coffee. “What did I do?” 

“You are going to want to protect him from being hurt, and I promise you that feelings will get hurt before this is all over.” Zayn levels him a look, and Louis would love to argue with him, but they both know that it would be for nothing. He just puts his hands up in surrender. 

“So what are you going to do in between harassing Liam?” Louis sasses. Zayn rolls his eyes. “I’m not sure if trying to get your job at the pub back is a good idea.” 

“Seems that position has been filled anyway. I was going to ask your mom if she had anything for me at the paper,” he replies.

“Yeah, I bet she could find a place for you.” Louis smiles. “And you are welcome to the guest room for as long as you need.” 

“I used to live there, too,” Zayn grumbles. Louis knows how much Zayn loved the home that him and Liam shared. It was his favourite place in the world before he left. 

“And now Liam and Harry live there,” Louis replies, feeling defensive of Liam already. This is going to be harder than he thought.

“Harry,” Zayn says, face impassive. “Taker of houses, jobs, and best friends.” 

“Do me a favour?” Louis glares at Zayn who raises his hands in surrender, mimicking Louis from earlier. “That’s what I thought.” 

 

“So you got yourself a roommate,” Harry says as they curl into each other on the couch later that night. It was a busy day for them both as Louis has been helping Liam’s dad, Greg, get the boat ready for their first round. Harry took a double shift at the pub so Liam could take another day. It feels good to be tired after a winter of just working in spurts. It feels good to have Harry to lean into while his muscles rest. 

“For now,” he replies. 

“Do you think Liam will take him back?” Harry asks, his voice starting to drift into sleep. 

“I don’t know,” Louis says honestly. “Those first few months….I have a hard time looking at Zayn when I think about it myself. I can’t even imagine how Liam feels. And God knows, he’s not going to tell anyone.” 

“Huh. Yeah, I could barely get a full sentence from his last night. Just kept rambling about how he can’t do it.” Harry wraps his arms around Louis a little tighter, and Louis’ chest swells with affection. 

“Zayn asked me to stay out of it.” Louis picks Harry’s hand up and starts playing with his fingers. 

“Yeah?” Harry asks. “Why’s that.” 

“Because he knows how much he is hurting Liam, and he wants a chance for them to work it out without me butting in to protect Liam’s feelings.” 

“So he’s asking you to take a side,” Harry replies. 

“He’s asking me not to take a side,” Louis says as Harry looks back at him impassively. 

“He knows what he is doing to Liam just being there, and he is asking you to be ok with it.” Harry frowns at him. Louis contemplates what he says for a moment. 

“Maybe I want Zayn to have his chance,” he says. 

“See, picked a side.” Harry raises an eyebrow at him. Louis isn’t sure exactly how he feels about it. 

“I watched them fall in love. I watched them have a life. I feel like I am as invested in this relationship as they are,” Louis says, not really feeling that confident in his decision anymore. 

“So you are taking the side of the relationship.” Harry immediately comes back.

“What is it with you and sides?” Louis snaps. “I am just keeping my mouth shut, that’s all.” 

Harry just looks at him, eyes serious and unwavering. “If just having to look at something caused my best friend to be in as much pain as Liam was last night, I would probably want to keep it as far away from them as possible.” 

“So you think I should get involved?” Louis bites out, not really liking the implications that Harry is making. 

“I would keep you as far away from it as possible,” Harry just says simply. It leaves Louis without much else to say about it. He turns back around, letting Harry’s come around him once again.

“I think I would do the same for you,” he says finally, feeling uneasy at the thought of something hurting Harry at all.

 

Louis swings his legs over the side of the deck of Greg’s boat and watches the crew members of the few other boats pick away at their own chores and preparations before he is joined with a heavy thump. 

“Almost time, Li.” he says, still watching the water and the people. 

“Yeah,” Liam replies with a nervous energy that has being flowing through everything it seems for the past few weeks. 

“Are ya ready?” Louis asks. Liam hesitates. They both know it, but Louis pretends he doesn’t. 

“Yeah, I’m ready,” he says with confidence. 

Where that confidence comes from, Louis isn’t sure. It’s been a long time since Liam has been out on the water. It’s not that he didn’t like it, but he felt that he had a responsibility to the pub and his mom who was always left alone during those summer months, and then later to Zayn who seemed to become terrified of something that used to come second nature to all of them. 

Zayn is still a subject that they haven’t talked about yet, and he can feel Liam bristle beside him, knowing what Louis is about to say before he even says it. 

“No, I haven’t talked to him again since he came back,” Liam says, voice with a cold and familiar bitterness when it comes to Zayn. “So you can go and tell all of our gossiping friends that at least.” 

Louis would like to be offended by this, but the entire town is talking about Zayn’s return and what that means for their favourite bartender. 

“You know I wouldn’t do that,” Louis chastises him anyway. 

Liam frowns and crosses his arms, giving Louis a martyrly stare. “You can tell Harry then. He’s almost as bad as you.” 

“If by bad, you mean worried about our friends, then yes. He is as bad as me.” Louis stands back up; break time is not meant for silly squabbles. “I hate seeing you like this.” 

“Then tell him to go back from where he came,” Liam barks loudly. A few men in the boat next them pops their heads up. 

“He’s not going to do that until you hear him out,” Louis says. He’s not actually sure if that’s true, and he feels a little guilty saying it out loud. 

“He will be waiting a while then. Although I suppose  _ you _ won’t mind,” Liam replies. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Louis’ hands fly in the air. 

“Took him right back in didn’t ya?” Liam accuses him. “Like nothin’ happened at all. Just like he didn’t leave you just like he left me.” 

Liam starts to stalk away. 

“That’s because I had the decency to hear what he had to say. And what he said made me forgive him,” Louis calls towards Liam’s retreating back. Liam doesn’t stop, just shakes his head as he hops onto the dock. 

“So much for staying out of it,” he mumbles to himself and climbs the ladder below deck to finish his job for the day.

 

He gets home late that night. It’s well past dark, but of course there is dinner on the table for him. He calls out to Zayn that he is home before sitting down to eat. Instead of a reply, he hears the strum of a guitar coming from the back of the house. He follows it, curious, until he finds Harry sitting crossed legged in the middle of his bed in nothing but his underwear and a guitar. 

He smiles at Louis when he walks into the room. 

“Hi.” Louis smiles back. “I didn’t expect you here.” 

Louis crawls into bed with him, sitting opposite Harry. 

“Liam is being very moody and rage cleaning, so I thought I would come here instead,” Harry replies, picking at the guitar strings absently. 

“Mmh. I may have been to blame for that,” Louis says, feeling slightly guilty. 

“I think we are both to blame,” Harry replies, shrugging his shoulders. “I hope it’s ok that I let myself in.” 

“Of course. I don’t think I would ever let you leave given a chance.” 

“Zayn left almost as soon as I got here,” Harry says, sounding cautious. 

“Zayn has his own shit to work through, don’t worry about him,” Louis says, although the idea of Zayn not even wanting to be in the same room with Harry irritates him more than slightly. 

“I wrote a song,” Harry says, clearly not comfortable with the Zayn conversation. “I haven’t written a song in a long time.” 

He sounds almost shy.

“That’s amazing Harry. I am so proud of you!” He leans in over the guitar and kisses him, lingering longer than comfortable with the way they are sitting. Harry’s lips make it difficult to ever pull away. 

“Thank you. I don’t know if it’s any good.” He strums again mindlessly. He focuses on the guitar instead of Louis as his strums start to sound more like something that solid. 

_ I found a love for me _

_ Darling just dive right in _

_ And follow my lead _

_ Well I found a boy beautiful and sweet  _

_ I never knew you were the someone waiting for me _

 

Harry sings softly, lost in his head. He drifts off, just strumming along, and looks at Louis with a small smile on his face. He is clearly proud of what he has accomplished, and Louis didn’t realise until this moment what a milestone this is for Harry. He has been so preoccupied with the boat and Zayn and Liam that he missed the struggle that Harry has been dealing with since he arrived months ago. 

Pride swells through him as he pulls the guitar gently from Harry’s hands. 

“You’re amazing,” he says, crawling into Harry’s lap. 

“I am so proud of you,” he murmurs into his neck sending shivers over Harry’s bare arms. 

“But did you like the song?” Harry asks, voice affected and raspy. 

“Of course I did. I can’t wait to hear it all. I can’t wait to see what brilliant things come from your brain.” He stops then, not liking where his brain goes immediately afterwards. He isn’t sure what Harry writing music means besides it makes Harry happy. But will he still be happy tending bar when he could do so much more?

“It’s you, Lou,” Harry replies in the silence. “I couldn’t have if I didn’t find you.” 

Harry’s hands start to roam freely over Louis’ body, settling on the curve of his hips. 

“Keep that in mind when you are being seduced by all those music producers with lots of money.” It’s meant to be funny, but he can feel the fear in his gut. 

“Hey,” Harry commands Louis’ attention. Louis looks at him, feeling vulnerable all of a sudden. “I left that because it took something from me. I couldn’t write songs anymore. I didn’t have music in my heart. I found it again when I found you. How could I ever forget that? How could I ever want to leave the person who makes my soul want to sing again?” 

“That was terribly cheesy,” Louis laughs, voice wet from the powerful words. 

“Maybe so, but it’s true. I couldn’t have done it without you and this place. I might want to write songs for big producers again someday, but I never want to leave here. To leave you.” 

Harry kisses him. It’s deep and hard on Louis’ mouth, but at the same time comforting because it’s Harry. And he wants Louis. They need each other. 

“Want you,” Louis says in response, not really being able to say the words that he means. He pulls his t shirt over his head and lets Harry push his jeans down enough to get his hand down the back of them. 

Harry presses a dry finger over his hole causing Louis to shudder. He grinds down on Harry feeling his own erection press against Harry’s growing one. Harry takes Louis by the waist and flips them so that Louis is on his back and undresses Louis fully before grabbing the bottle of lube from the nightstand. He comes back down, barely hovering over Louis. Louis can feel his chest heaving as he makes eye contact.

“Need you so bad, Lou,” Harry says before kissing him again and pressing a wet finger into him. It takes Louis’ breath away. 

“You have me,” Louis breathes through increasing gasps. “I’m yours.” 

“Mine,” Harry replies, fingering him with a trance like rhythm. 

“Fuck me,” he begs. “Fuck me fuck me fuck me.” 

Harry shuffles a bit before he is on his knees, pushing Louis’ legs up to his chest. He enters him and pauses. His eyes closed, his concentration on the the moment. 

“Harry, please,” Louis begs again before Harry starts moving again, fucking into him slowly but deliberately. He takes Louis into his hand and moves him to the same pattern. 

It’s just them. The pleasure that Louis is feeling is almost overshadowed by the love that he is feeling. The pride that he has in having someone who knows his needs, his likes. How to get him off just the way he needs it. 

“I love you,” he cries out, on the edge. The words affect Harry physically as he groans loudly, and doubles his efforts on both of them. He waits for Louis; he always does. He doesn’t have to wait long as Louis spills onto Harry’s hand blissfully. Feeling Harry coming as well only adds to the incredible feeling of his own orgasm. 

“I love you, too, Louis. God, so much,” Harry says as he wraps his body around Louis’ like a blanket. 

 

The next night Louis walks into the pub and can instantly feel the buzz of excitement. It’s the night before the beginning of the first fishing season, and by some unsaid force, nearly every captain and crew member have gathered together to have a drink. Louis barely manages to get to the bar and order a drink when Harry walks up to him with one already opened and ready. 

“Hey, love,” he says to Harry who doesn’t at all have time to talk, but gives him a bit of special attention anyway.

“Hey, babe. I can’t even stop. I’ll find you when I am not going in circles.” Harry is walking away before his sentence is even finished, and Louis laughs and waves him away. 

He looks around, wondering where his crew is. The first one he spots is Niall thanks to his boisterous voice and wild hand gestures. He wanders over, propping an arm on Niall’s shoulder. Niall doesn’t even pause his story, just moves to accommodate Louis’ presence.

“So no one wanted to be the first to look in the little vessel. What if there was a dead body or something, so Tommo here decided we needed to draw straws!” Niall continues his story. One that he is sure that everyone in the room has heard several times. “Well the idiot played himself ‘cause he drew the short one.” 

Niall laughs loudly, causing everyone around him to do so as well. “Thank Jesus it was empty, but you should have seen the jumpy fucker squeal when he had to open the door.” 

Niall’s full on cackling at this point, while Louis rolls his eyes. “Get your laughs in now, boys. You’ll all be cryin’ this time tomorrow when I out fish all of ya,” Louis says raising a glass to himself. 

“Please.” Niall rolls his eyes. “You’ve lost your best man Jake over there, and you gained a rookie.” 

“First of all, fuck you. I’m the best man on that boat, and also Liam isn’t a rookie. He grew up on a rig just like all the rest of us.” Louis finishes his beer and sets the bottle on a nearby table a little too hard. 

Niall squares his shoulders raising an eyebrow. “Care to make it interesting?” 

“Always,” Louis responds. It comes down to this every year. It’s not like either of them are surprised. 

“Are we taking bets already?” Jake sidles up beside Niall. His smile is ridiculous, and Louis just wants to hug him. 

“Think you can stack up?” Louis smiles at him. “Don’t want to take it easy on yourself for your first year?” 

“Might be my first year as captain,” Jake says and smiles even wider when people start wooing and cheering. “But I’ve been the best man on any rig since I’ve been old enough to walk.” 

Jake eyes them both, doing his best to look hard. “Well then lads. What’s the bet?” Louis asks, smirking. 

“Beer,” both Niall and Jake say in unison, making the crowd that has built around them laugh and agree. 

“Alright, end of the season, and I mean last load, whoever brings home the most gets a night of free drinking.”

“Entire crew,” Jake adds, looking back at his newly formed crew. 

Louis nods as does Niall. They all bring a fist in, and everyone goes back to their evening of fun before the real work starts. 

 

For Harry, the entire hype of the start of the season is completely anticlimactic. He wakes up in the early morning alone and without even having work to go to. Since he closed the night before, Karen had insisted he not come in until the lunch rush. Although she assures him that now that half of the town are on the water, there won’t be much of a rush anyway. 

He decides to pick away at his guitar. The sound of the strings still fill him with a muted anxiety. He felt when he lost his sound that he lost everything. As though the music in his head was the only thing that mattered. Maybe that is what he needed to learn most, what Louis taught him the most. There are so many things, so much about him that is important, that is worthy. It makes him feel a little silly now thinking back to the breakdown he had in New York. Now he just needs to face the guilt he feels for running away from his problems. 

He strums the guitar again and thinks of Louis. Louis doesn’t make him feel like he’s running anymore. Louis makes him feel like he is exactly where he belongs. It’s comforting and exciting all at the same time. Who gets excited by commitment? He shakes his head, picking through a tune that has filtered into his head. For the first time in his life, he feels as though he is running towards something. He likes it.

 

He manages to keep himself busy and stay away from the pub until he is due to start his shift. Karen wasn’t kidding when she said it would be quiet. When he walks into the front entrance, there isn’t one person sitting at a table. He walks back to the kitchen to find Karen idly peeling potatoes while she watches a soap on the tiny tv in the corner. 

“Hey,” he says, grabbing an apron from the hook and washing his hands in the big sink. 

“Hey, love. How was your morning?” She asks, not really focusing on him at all. 

“Quiet,” he replies. He begins to do his usual lunch rush prep, but finds that it is mostly already done. 

“No rush dear. You’ll barely get a dozen in here today.” She smiles sadly. She finishes up her show, and cleans the mess she made. Harry just stands awkwardly looking at her putter around. 

“Is there anything you want me to do?” He asks, wringing his hands together. 

“Just keep an eye on the place. Maybe bring a book with you next time. There might be one in Liam’s desk back there.” She pats his cheek and walks out, leaving him alone for the next eight hours. 

He sighs and grabs a clean rag and cleaning solution. There is no way he is going to be able to just sit around and read all day. Surely there is something in this place that needs a good deep clean. 

When he walks back into the bar though, he is surprised to see that he has a customer. 

Zayn sits at one of the stools near the end of the bar, scribbling something in a notebook. He doesn’t look up until Harry is standing directly in front of him and only then it’s barely a glance in Harry’s direction before his head is down once again. 

“Can I get you something?” Harry little more than mumbles. He knows that Zayn isn’t fond of him, but he isn’t exactly sure why. 

“They’re gone are they?” Zayn replies. It takes Harry a few ticks to realise what he is talking about. 

“Left early this morning,” he replies, still standing there awkwardly. He can’t really leave until Zayn tells him if he wants food or a drink, so he’s stuck. 

“I’m terrified of the water,” Zayn continues, still not stopping his hands from moving across the paper. Harry looks down to see that he is drawing a landscape. It is of a meadow, and while Harry isn’t about to lean down to take a better look, it seems that it is full of small wildflowers. It’s quite beautiful. “Can’t even swim.”

“I didn't know that,” Harry replies for lack of anything better to say. 

“Of course you didn’t. You have no idea who I am.” 

“Fair enough.” He clears his throat about to ask Zayn if he wants something again, but Zayn isn’t finished with him.

“Back then, I was so scared. I wouldn't sleep for days when he was out there. My anxiety would make my brain dream up the most terrifying stories. That’s why he stopped. He stopped for me. He stopped going out on the water so that I could get better.”

Harry stands there, not really knowing what to say to this unexpected outburst of honesty. Zayn finally stops what he is doing and looks up towards Harry. They watch one another for a second before shrugging and going back to his drawing. 

“Why are you here?” He asks. 

“Um, I work-” Harry starts, but is cut off again.

“Not here in this moment, here on this island, in this town. Why are you living in my house and doing my job and sleeping with my best friend?” 

Harry fish mouths for a second. This was the last thing he expected for Zayn to say to him. He guesses he has a bit more insight into why Zayn is a little put off by him. 

“That’s a long story,” he finally says. Zayn looks around the empty bar. 

“I think we have time,” he says. 

“And I don’t think it’s any of your business,” he replies, a little more boldly. 

“Ah,” Zayn says. He flips his book closed and stands up. He looks at Harry one more time and nods his head in a curt goodbye and leaves. Harry can only stand there and watch him go. In the dozen or more times he wishes that Louis were around to talk to today, this has definitely been the time he’s wanted him most.

 

When Louis comes home three days later, it isn’t to the fanfare that Harry wanted it to be, partly because not every boat is on the same schedule. People had been coming in and out pretty frequently and partly because it was barely for 24 hours, and he was off again. But Harry cherished it. They barely left the bed. Harry was working double to make sure that Louis had everything he needed when he came home, mail was picked up, fridge was full. Louis’ mother called him a good house husband when he pulled in to complete Louis’ usual delivery round. He rolled his eyes, but on the inside he was beaming. It didn’t make Louis leaving again any less bleak though. He missed him before he was even gone the next morning. 

But life went on around him, and he went on, too. He found Karen’s company especially comforting, happily picking up more responsibility around the pub. He is on a simple supply run one afternoon, picking up the more favoured snack mix that is only stocked at the grocery store in town when he runs into a familiar face. 

“Harry!” Niall shouts, grabbing him around the waist and hugging him tightly. Harry freezes for a moment. Niall has never willingly touched Harry in his life, and he has never seen Niall hug anyone. Even people he actually likes. 

“Um, hi?” Harry replies. He awkwardly pats Niall’s shoulder until Niall releases him, a huge smile on his face, which again, not something he has ever seen from Niall Horan. 

“Whadda y’at my friend?” He asks, peaking into Harry’s basket. Harry opens his mouth to reply, but Niall is still blabbing on merrily. “Oh, I love this stuff. Haven’t been into the pub yet. Have to for supper don’t I?” 

He beams at Harry. Harry can only nod. “Gonna be there then?” Harry nods again. “Well I’ll see ya tonight! Can’t wait! Miss ya!” 

Niall pats his back heartily and walks away, leaving Harry standing in the middle of the cereal aisle, wondering if he has slipped into some sort of alternate dimension. 

 

When he comes in for his late shift Niall is already there and a few drinks in from what he can see. He has his arm around a relaxed, but less boisterous Zayn who is smiling and nodding along to whatever Niall is telling him. Definitely a twilight zone, he thinks. Happy smiling Niall  _ and _ Zayn, all in the same building. He looks over at Karen who is chatting with an older man at the end of the bar. 

“What is up with Niall?” He asks when she wanders back to his side of the bar. She looks towards where Niall is now singing some sea shanty, apparently only he knows and smiles. 

“He likes to make up the words sometimes.” She shrugs, absolutely not answering his question. 

“Yeah but--he’s so happy.” Harry follows her around, glancing over his shoulder at Niall just out there being happy go lucky. 

“Yeah?” She says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “That’s our Niall, always with a smile on his face.” 

“What?” He asks. “Niall? Niall Horan?” 

“Wouldn’t it be nice to be as sunny as he is sometimes?” She smiles at Niall lovingly. Harry is a little scared now. Maybe he slipped and bumped his head or something.

He turns around and runs smack center into Zayn, who is behind the bar, mixing himself a drink.

“Um,” he says, not really knowing how to tell him that he isn’t supposed to be behind here. 

“How articulate,” Zayn replies, deftly pouring himself a pint of draft from the tap. “I thought you wrote songs for a living once upon a time.” 

He looks at Harry to reply, his dark eyes boring a hole into Harry’s soul. 

“Employees only!” Karen yells at Zayn, but it’s with a smirk and a wink that Zayn returns with a smirk of his own and a quick hug. 

“Sorry mum,” he says to her while she shoos him away. “Your new help is a bit slow on the service, thought I would hurry things along.” 

“That is a lie, and we both know it. Play nice, or I won’t be inviting you over for roast next Sunday.” She looks at him sternly. He slides his eyes over to Harry who is standing there feeling very exposed. 

“Sorry,” Zayn mumbles to him and disappears again. Harry lets out a breath, and Karen sighs, watching him go back to his table. 

“He’s a good boy. He just has a lot going on in here.” She points to his head. “He’ll come around.” 

She nods her head, and Harry can’t help but see a small unshed tear in her eye. 

“They both will.” She shakes herself a bit and plasters a smile on her face again. “Why don’t you go bring some palettes up from the storage Harry? I’m fine up here.” 

He nods silently and walks to the back of the room. He misses Louis. He knew that things would be different, but he didn’t realise how much. 

  
  


Louis is so happy to be spending a night in his own bed that he isn’t even that bothered that Harry has been pouting the entire evening. Who is he kidding? He finds it downright adorable. Harry has missed him while he was gone, and apparently has saved up all of the horrible things that have happened because Louis wasn’t around to fix it all. Who wouldn’t secretly love to feel needed like that, even at the expense of his sweet and whiny boyfriend?

“Ah, love. I’m sorry. I feel like this is my fault.” Louis strokes Harry’s face as they lay in bed together, post reunion sex. Harry just looks at him, clearly not disagreeing. “I kept you all to myself for so long, you need to make your own relationships.” 

“Well it won’t be with Zayn,” Harry grumbles, snuggling closer to Louis. Harry hasn’t stopped touching the hair on his face that Louis has decided to let grow. He did it out of laziness and lack of supplies in his bunk, but the unexpected side effect isn’t so bad either. 

“Zayn’s issues aren’t about you. Feel free to tell him where to go, and how to get there.” Louis frowns. He isn’t at all happy about what Zayn has been saying to Harry behind his back. It’s not Harry’s fault that Zayn didn’t come back to the warm welcome that he was hoping for.

“He’s your best friend,” Harry replies. 

“My best friend wouldn’t be such an ass to the man I love,” Louis reasons. 

“Karen says that he’s a good boy.” Harry half smiles. His eyes start to drift closed.

“Zayn isn’t the only one who hopes that him and Liam work out their shit.” Louis chuckles. “But look on the bright side. If they do, then we get the house all to ourselves again.” 

Harry fully smiles at this, holding Louis tighter to his chest. 

“Are you happy?” Harry asks, seemingly out of the blue, but Louis knows the answer anyway. 

“I don’t think I could be happier right now,” Louis says, closing his own eyes. He lets himself drift into sleep feeling the most content he has ever felt in his life.

  
  


Louis stands on the bow of The Olivia watching the dying light of the sun on the horizon. They are heading home after a few long, cold days. But their holding tank is full of mackerel, and they have a blessed few days in their own beds. Despite the cold seeping through his heavy coat and coveralls, he resists the inevitable need to find his warm bunk. It’s so peaceful like this, no one running around the deck, no screaming for cables and nets. Just the aftermath of a job well done and the drift of laughter from below deck. He couldn’t wipe the smile off his face if he tried. Except now there is an added sweetness to this familiar feeling. He misses Harry and knowing that he is waiting for Louis to step off the trawler in a few hours just makes the journey home that much more exciting. 

He sighs when the last of the sun leaves, and he is left seeing nothing but the small amount of water that the big lights overhead project. He begins to shed his heavy layers as he heads below hoping for an extra helping of supper before he lays down for a few hours. When he reaches the ladder for his bunk, he meets Greg. He smiles for a second, about to give the man a short greeting, but he looks at the ashen colour of Gregs face and immediately knows something has happened. 

“Who?” Louis asks desperately. Dozens of faces cross his mind, both at home and on the water. 

“Jake.” Greg’s voice breaks as he says his name. “He’s gone.” 

 

They make a decision that despite the danger, they need to get home as quickly as possible. No one wants to sit on that tiny boat and have to listen to their own thoughts right now. Jake is dead. Jake died on his boat. Got caught on a hook and was gone before anyone had a chance to do anything. One minute he was yelling orders to his crew, pulling in a net, and the next, he was lying dead on his own deck. His second run out as captain ever. Louis doesn’t want to think about it anymore. He doesn’t want to look at the similar look on everyone else's face around him. That look of  _ it could have been me _ mixed with heartbreak of  _ it was Jake. _ Everyone loves Jake. Loved him. He can feel the bile rising in his throat again. He can’t tell the difference between whether it’s tears coming or vomit anymore. He has done enough in the past five hours. 

He trudges through the door of the house and slams it a little too hard. He throws his bag in the direction of the laundry room and just stands in the kitchen. He isn’t sure why he was in such a rush to get home now. He can’t sleep. He can’t eat. He doesn’t want to think. He doesn’t want to exist.

“Lou.” Harry’s soft voice creeps up behind him. It’s both a sharp stab of pain and a soothing balm. He turns to see Harry’s face. He has the heartbreak that the rest of them had, but the fear is different. Harry doesn’t fear for his own life. He has never stepped foot on anything more dangerous than a kayak. His fear is different. Louis realises that Harry’s fear is for him. While Louis was thinking _ , that could be me,  _ Harry was thinking,  _ that could be Louis.  _

He slams into Harry with a force that almost knocks them both to the ground. Louis needs to feel like he exists. He needs Harry to feel that he is there. He is there and alive, and that is all that matters in this moment. 

“I’m so sorry, Louis,” Harry mumbles into his hair, not loosening his grip for a moment. “I know...” 

“No, not tonight,” Louis begs. He couldn’t talk about it. He has been surrounding himself with what he knows for hours. “I don’t want to think. I don’t want to talk.”

“Ok.” Louis can hear the tears clogging his throat. 

“I just want to feel.” Louis grasps him tighter. He finds Harry’s mouth. He can taste tears as their mouths crash against one another. They reek of desperation, but Harry picks him up and carries him to his bed as though they were desperate for one another instead of the truth, which is that they are desperate to forget for a second how broken Louis feels. 

  
  


Nearly the entire town stands in the graveyard. It’s cold outside even for May, but no one seems to care or even notice. A lone bagpiper walks up a temporary aisle between graves and plays Amazing Grace while people stand, staring towards the grave. Louis feels the sting of the wet wind blowing through his dress pants. It’s counteracted though by the warm hand in his own.

Harry’s body leans heavily into Louis. His face is sombre, and his eyes are downcast, but he can tell that Harry is paying attention to Louis more than the ceremony. Every time Louis feels like he is about to break, every time his breath hitches, Harry squeezes his hand. He makes Louis feel like he has his own personal support team right next to him.

Then the moment that he has dreaded the most comes. Jakes’ family walks in behind the bagpiper. His parents and brother comes in first. They are obviously devastated, but supporting one another physically and emotionally. They nod at a few people and then take a seat at graveside on the few folding chairs. Jake’s dad sits with a stiff back, staring straight ahead, but Louis doesn’t need to see his face to know that he has the same haunted face that every other man and woman who spent a good portion of their lives doing the very thing that got Jake killed has. It’s the same face that Louis has seen every time he has been to one of these funerals, although none that have hit so close to home as this one has. 

Finally, Jake’s wife, Isabelle, walks in alone. She looks like a ghost, she is so pale. Her eyes are downcast, not looking at anything but the ground in front of her feet. He feels Harry squeeze his hand harder this time. This time wasn’t for Louis. This time Harry was looking for something to hold onto. He looks at Harry’s face and sees Isabelle’s face mirrored in Harry’s. The fear, the realisation that could be him. He lets go of Harry’s hand and pulls him closer to his side. Harry leans his head on Louis’ shoulder and breaks down. 

They both cry openly when the coffin lowers into the ground, but no one really notices as most everyone is doing the same.

 

One of the most painful, frustrating things about people dying is that life goes on. People still wake up in the morning, and the sun still rises. Stores open, and fish still swim. It feels disrespectful almost. 

Louis barely leaves the house for the few days after the funeral. He and Harry have been living in their own little bubble, only talking to the people who they absolutely need to, and by that, they mean Niall, Liam, and Zayn. But even that has been sparse. Everyone has been kind of living in their own heads. But the season is short, and no matter how heartbroken everyone is, no one can afford to miss time on the water. 

He feels a little bit guilty for it because he has been clinging to Harry like a life raft since he came home, but he is glad to be going back. He needs the distraction. He feels like all he has done the last few days is sit and think and talk. He is tired of thinking. He needs to do something that doesn’t take any thinking. 

He packs his bag, ready to leave at the break of dawn the next morning. Harry has spent every night in his bed, and this night is no exception. Louis is grateful that Zayn has made himself as scarce as he can. Not that Zayn isn’t feeling the weight of his own grief, but to add that to the inexplicable but obvious tension that he and Harry still hold is too much.

When he crawls into bed, Harry is already waiting for him. Louis happily goes into his arms, and Harry wraps him in a tight hug. It feels good until Louis realises that Harry isn’t letting go, not even loosening his grip. When his eyes adjust to the dark, he can see Harry’s eyes closed tight. Tighter than if he were sleeping or even trying to. No, Harry is trying really hard not to do something else. 

“Oh, love.” Louis tries to soothe him. “It’s been a long few days. I’m sorry.” 

Harry lets out a shaky, wet breath. “Yeah,” he sighs, but he doesn’t elaborate. 

“Harry, are you alright?” Louis asks. It causes Harry to hold him even closer. 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Harry replies. His voice is tight and strained, but he finally lets Louis go to get comfortable. He rolls over into Louis’ arms. Louis keeps watching his face, but Harry has his eyes closed again. Louis tries to do the same. He has to be up in a few hours. 

 

When Louis’ alarm wakes him up the next morning, it feels like he has only slept for a few minutes. He forces his eyes open to look at the clock even though he knows the time. What he finds instead is Harry’s wide eyes staring at him. A slight frown is settled on his face like he is thinking of something deeply. He reaches out and touches the corner of Harry’s lip, smoothing away the lines gently. 

“What’s going on Harry?” He asks. His voice is still gravelly from sleep, but it resonates loudly in the quiet of the morning. 

“Nothing,” Harry replies almost as though he is expecting the question. Louis doesn’t respond, just watches him watching Louis. “Just going to miss you is all.” 

“I’ll be back in a few days,” Louis says. It’s meant to be comforting, but air comes from Harry’s nose as though it’s being forced from his body. 

A look crosses Harry’s face briefly, but it’s not gone quickly enough for Louis to not have seen it. He has dubbed it in his head since the funeral as The Look. It’s the look that has crossed Harry’s face many times since Jake’s death. It’s the look on Isabelle’s face throughout the funeral. It’s the look that he has freshly noticed on spouses and children all over town as they consider their loved ones going back into a place that they might never come back from. It’s a look that Louis realises that he has seen his entire life. He just didn’t notice it until he was on the receiving end, until he was the one who caused that haunted gaze. 

He pulls Harry close to him. It’s all he has. It’s all he can give right now. “I love you so much,” he says into Harry’s shoulder. Harry nods, breath unsteady. Harry pulls away, giving him a wavering smile. 

“Go, you’ll miss the boat.” His eyes are full of unshed tears that Louis tries to wipe away, but Harry grabs his hand and brings it to his lips instead. “I’m fine. I’ll see you in a few days.” 

Louis nods and kisses him, trying to use the moment to say the things that he doesn’t have the words for. He doesn’t turn around when he leaves the room, pulling his jeans on as he walks. He doesn’t know if he could leave if he did. 

 

The next few days are muted. Everyone keeps their heads down and gets the job done. Partly because they are working double time trying to make up for the days missed, and partly because everyone is still reeling from the loss of a friend. Louis notices that everyone is being painfully careful as well. Liam just about bit Oli’s head off earlier in the day for tripping over a cable on the deck. The worst that could have happened was he fall on his face on the wet decking, but Liam screamed at him for a full minute before Greg put his hand on his son’s shoulder telling him silently to calm down. No one looked Liam in the eye as he walked off the deck and went into the wheelhouse to cool off. 

Louis knew that it wouldn’t last. Not that they are accustomed to losing people, but it’s not the first time either. The last was when Louis was barely eighteen. It was a deckhand who was up there in years. He was told that it was a heart attack. He knew that guys like everyone in Petty Harbour knows everyone, but not like he knew Jake. This is new. Different. It’s one of  _ his _ people. Just like the older guys, most of who have retired since, felt when Robert was lost to them. 

He finds himself sitting with Greg that night. There isn’t much to do after they eat, waiting to grab their last load and head back towards home. Greg has let Liam navigate the waters for a bit to take his mind off of things. 

“Can I ask ya something?” Louis asks, knowing that Greg would never deny him.

“What’s on your mind son?” Greg asks, not even looking up from the ratty novel in his hands. 

“Does Karen ever look at you when you leave like she’s sad or scared or...something.” Louis shakes his head. He hasn’t tried to decipher The Look in words yet.

“You’ve met Karen, Lou. She cries about damned near everything.” Greg chuckles. 

Louis nods because yes, she does. Happy, sad, mad, glad. She is a crier. It’s something they have all grown accustomed to. “So it doesn’t bother her then? You being out here after…” He doesn’t need to finish that sentence, and he doesn’t care to.

“Aye, of course it does. It’s worse after stuff like this. Everyone back home is worrying about us right now. Wondering if it will be one of us next time. 

“I’ve never noticed before,” Louis confesses. Harry’s face pops up in his mind. Worry doesn’t even begin to describe it.

“That’s because you didn’t have anyone to worry about you. No one that it mattered anyway. Don’t tell your mum I said that,” Greg replies. 

Louis nods silently. It makes sense. He feels instantly guilty though. It hasn’t once occurred to him that people lost sleep or peace of mind over him. 

“How do you reconcile it?” He asks again. This time Greg does put the book down. He gives Louis a bit of exasperated but fond look and puts his hands on his shoulders. 

“I haven’t got a choice. This is my life. I know that you understand that.” Louis nods again without even thinking. Being a fisherman isn’t even a part of Louis’ life. It is what he is, who he is. “Karen knows this is who I am. She knows that this comes with her husband, just like I know that her crying three times a day come with her. Or her love of pop music or her heart condition that could take her away from me just as easily as this boat can take me from her.” 

Greg reflects for a moment, Louis assumes on the years that he has been with his lovely wife. “Every relationship in this world takes sacrifice. Some people’s sacrifices look a little different than others.”

“So I have to just live with knowing that whoever I end up with will live in fear every time I come out and do something that makes me happier than anything else.” If Louis sounds incredulous, it’s because he is. 

“What other choice do you have?” Greg chuckles as though the answer is obvious. But to Louis it’s not. He stands up, heading for his bunk with more questions than answers. It doesn’t sit well with him at all.

 

Twenty-four hours later Louis is sitting on a barstool at Payne’s. Liam sits beside him silently. Harry is home changing his clothes from his shift. Louis knows the reasons for his own label picking, but he isn’t sure what is occupying Liam’s mind at the moment. 

“What’s up?” Louis eventually asks, not being able to stand the quiet anymore. 

“Not much,” Liam replies, not stopping the destruction of the damp sticker. 

“Awful quiet,” Louis says almost to himself. 

“Don’t feel much like talking,” Liam mumbles.

“Can I talk to you about something?” Louis asks. 

“Well, of course, since I said I didn’t feel like talking, the first thing you would want to do is ask questions,” Liam grumbles. 

“Do you know what, fuck off, I need someone to talk to.” Louis glares at him. Liam sighs, and waves his hand to encourage Louis to go ahead. 

“How was it--just quitting The Olivia?” Louis asks. Liam gives him a strange look. Clearly, that wasn’t what he expected Louis to say. 

“It sucked.” Liam shrugs. He looks slightly confused, clearly not expecting this topic. 

“Was it worth it?” Louis asks tentatively. This time Liam glares, Zayn territory again.  

“If I learned anything from that particular instance, Lou, it is that a person shouldn’t make themself unhappy just to make someone else happy. Rarely turns out great.” Liam’s voice goes cold and bitter. A tone that Louis hasn’t heard from Liam in a while. It makes him sad to see that Liam just seems to be going in reverse. 

“So it made you unhappy?” Louis asks. Liam actually seems to think about the question this time. 

“It wasn’t that I quit it. I love being out in it, and I want to do it. But it wasn’t that I wasn’t doing it anymore. It was that I did it for him, and it didn’t even help. I was sitting at home with my thumb in my ass. I was giving everything up, and it didn’t seem like he was giving anything up. I became resentful because it wasn’t for us. It wasn’t for me. It was all for him. And I couldn’t even be mad at him for it because he didn’t ask me to do it. I did it to myself.”

Louis sits quietly for a bit. He watches Liam battle whatever argument he is likely having in his head. “So if it was for you, you would be able to give it up?” 

“Maybe, if the reasons are right. I’m not like you and Niall. Or…the other boys.”

“So you don’t think I can do that? Even if it’s for the right reasons?” Louis challenges. Liam laughs of all things. 

“Well I mean...you could give it up if you had no choice. Just like a person could live without a leg. Doesn’t mean anyone is just going to chop one off willingly though does it?” 

“Would you have done it differently then? Looking back, knowing what you know now?” 

“Probably. We couldn’t live with each other the way that it was when I was out on the water, and obviously we couldn’t live with each other when I was home all the time. I guess my only choice would have been to quit him.” Liam shrugs again, like it’s an obvious answer, but Louis can see him almost flinch when he even suggests it. Louis wants to flinch too. 

“I know you don’t want to talk about Zayn,” Louis says awarding him a murderous glare. “But you know that it was him, not you. Nothing you did or didn’t do was making him that way.” Liam nods his head but doesn’t look at Louis again. 

“Well maybe he did me a favour then. Let me move on with my life, find happiness.” Liam’s words are sullen and void. 

Louis opens his mouth to talk again. To ask another what if, another point of view. But just then the door opens and Harry walks in, a picture of fresh air and sunshine. He kisses Louis sound on the lips and holds him close as though they didn’t just see one another less than an hour before. Louis smiles back. Holding Harry’s happiness in the palm of his hand suddenly feels like a five ton crushing weight on his chest. 

 

“God, I’m glad you’re home.” Harry wraps his arms around Louis for probably the tenth time that night. They are still at the pub, but there is barely anyone left, and it feels quiet and intimate for once. Louis sinks into the warmth of it. 

“Wish it was for a little longer,” Louis replies with a smile. Of course, he will always wish he had more time with Harry. There isn’t enough hours in any day to have enough time for Harry. 

The issue is that as soon as the words come from his mouth, Harry’s face shifts. If Louis wasn’t looking for it, he wouldn’t even have noticed.

“Harry,” Louis starts. Harry smiles at him, waiting for Louis to continue. He pulls away, not able to say the things in his mind while it’s being occupied by Harry’s touch. Harry looks confused. 

“What’s going on?” He looks down at Louis’ arms that are now crossed over his chest as though he’s doesn’t really understand how they aren’t touching him anymore. 

“Harry,” Louis repeats. As though just saying his name is going to project all of this newfound doubt and fear into Harry’s brain so that Harry understands as well. This of course does not happen. Harry continues to look confused, and concerned. More concerned by the second. “You’re scared.” 

“I’m what?” 

“You’re scared of me being on the water. Since Jake died, you are scared of me dying.” Louis doesn’t ask. It’s a fact, and they both know it.

“It’s fine, Louis.” Harry swallows, crossing his own arms. 

“It isn’t fine. I didn’t realise how much of an impact me being gone would have on you,” Louis says it as the apology that it is. 

“It’s alright,” Harry says. His voice sounds more pleading this time. He reaches out to Louis who instinctively pulls back. Harry’s hand abruptly stops, and he looks at Louis with a look of terror. Louis wants to comfort him, but he doesn’t know how. 

“I don’t want you to ever be scared. You don’t deserve that. You don’t deserve to spend half of your life waiting for a phone call like that.” Louis shakes his head. 

“Louis!” Harry yells desperately even though they are only a foot apart. 

“I’m sorry,” Louis whispers. Harry’s mouth is opened like he wants to scream but nothing comes out. Louis’ eyes blur with unshed tears. He turns around before he can talk himself out of it and leaves to the sound of Harry yelling at him to stop. 

He doesn’t stop until he gets home and locks his door. He sits on the edge of his bed and cries until morning when he has to leave for work. Red eyed and exhausted, he walks out his front door to find Harry sitting in his truck, asleep. He must have waited all night. Louis watches him for a second before he walks past him, not even waking him up. He couldn’t possibly imagine what he would say anyway. 

 

Harry is jolted awake by a tap on the window that his head is resting against. He cracks an eye open to see that the sun is up, and the person who he has been actually waiting for isn’t the one staring at him on the other side of the vehicle. 

He rolls down the window to Zayn’s curious face. “What are you doing?” Zayn asks. It lacks the usual derision that Zayn seems to save just for him.

“Waiting for Louis,” Harry replies. He considers leaving it at that, but Zayn will find out soon enough anyway. “He kind of locked me out of the house.” 

Zayn’s eyebrows shoot up at this. So Zayn doesn’t know anything.

“Not usually his style,” Zayn mumbles. 

“We didn’t fight,” Harry replies as though that explains everything. “I don’t know what happened.” 

“If you were waiting for him, he isn’t here,” Zayn says, sounding almost sympathetic. “Must have walked.” 

“Fuck,” Harry groans, swiping his hands roughly over his face. “I don’t even…” He looks at Zayn who is still standing there. He sighs and thinks fuck it “He just said something about me being scared and how I don’t deserve to be waiting for a phone call half the year.” 

He shrugs, still after all these hours not really knowing what Louis was talking about. Zayn though, nods. 

“Jake,” Zayn says. “He is dealing with losing Jake.”

“What does that have to do with it?” Harry shoots at him. 

“Did it occur to you before Jake died that Louis might not come home? Because you are certainly thinking it now.” Zayn leans against the truck, tucking his hands under his arms. “We’re all thinking it. Louis is probably thinking it too.” 

“So the logical explanation is to lock me out and not talk to me anymore?” Anger rises inside Harry. 

“No, it’s not logical.” Zayn shrugs. “But people rarely do things that make sense when they’re hurting.” 

The anger instantly ebbs. Louis is hurting. That knowledge instantly takes over any questions he is having. He nods, partly to himself, partly to Zayn. 

“Thanks for waking me up,” he says, opening the door to head home. 

“Yeah, no problem.” Zayn steps away. “See ya around I guess.” 

“Yeah, maybe.” Harry gives him a half smile, but it hurts to think that maybe he won’t either. Zayn’s forehead scrunches up as well, processing that information, but he doesn’t reply, just walks back into the house leaving Harry to stretch out his stiff joints and walk home.

 

Harry spends an agonizing few days at home. It’s a pretty equal mix of worrying that he will never see Louis again because he will die on that fucking boat and worrying that he won’t see Louis again because Louis wants nothing to do with him anymore. Every waking moment is pure torture, working in the pub where men and women come in and out constantly talking about the harbours and their boats and their loads and their people. He doesn’t want to hear any of it, but he can’t get enough either in the event that Louis’ name might get brought up. 

Louis doesn’t call him. He didn’t expect to hear from him when he was out, but he knows that he has been to shore at least once because he comes into work one afternoon to see Niall and Oli giggling in the corner. He wants to turn right back around and go to Louis’ house. He wants to shake some sense into him. But he doesn’t. He takes Zayn’s words to heart and lets him have some time. He would give him all the time in the world if he knew that it would end with Louis coming back to him. 

But he doesn’t know and that is killing him. His entire being hurts. 

He comes home one night a week after Louis had shut him out, weary from his shift and the constant burden of worry that seems to have seeped into his bones. He walks into the kitchen and is surprised to see his housemate sitting at the kitchen table with a hot drink in his hand. When Liam looks up at him, it’s with sympathy. Harry is torn between wanting to hide from that look and wanting to pull every ounce of information Liam might have about Louis. 

He settles for sitting down and quietly waiting for Liam to give him whatever he is willing to. 

“Suppose you want to know how Louis is doing.” Liam almost looks guilty for saying it.

“Suppose that would be nice,” Harry replies. He can feel his short nails dig into the palms of his hands, he is clenching them so hard. 

“He’s upset,” Liam says. 

“I didn’t do anything to upset him.” Harry’s words are hard and cold. Liam puts his hands up in surrender.

“I know. I didn’t say you did,” he says, but he is still frowning. “I know it’s none of my business. I don’t want to get in the middle.” 

“Thanks.” Harry rolls his eyes. What a time to want to stay out of people’s business. 

“I’m just saying that I think you should give him some time. Be gentle with him, that’s all.” 

“Me? Be gentle with him?” Harry knows that his voice is rising. He doesn’t even care anymore. “He left me standing in the middle of the pub, and he didn’t even tell me why! He hasn’t spoken to me since!” Harry can feel his shell starting to break. He really doesn’t want to do this right now. “He has broken my heart, but I need to be gentle with him?!” 

“He thinks he’s doing it for you,” Liam explains. “I know it doesn’t make it better, but he thinks that you will be better off this way. I’m not saying it’s right. I’m just saying that maybe fighting isn’t the answer right now.” 

Harry stands up, feeling consumed with exhaustion and fueled by anger. “Forgive me Liam if I don’t take relationship advice from you.” He immediately regrets the words when he sees the hurt on Liam’s eyes, but it’s out there now, and Harry can’t take it back. He turns back around and walks out the front door. There is someone that he needs to talk about this with, and it’s not Liam. 

He walks, not trusting himself to drive in the rage that is encompassing him. He also hopes that the brisk fifteen minutes it takes to get to Louis’ house will cool him down a little. It doesn’t. The house is dark when Harry gets there. 

He knocks heavily on the door and continues until a light comes on inside and there are feet rushing towards the door. Louis wrenches the door back with a look of panic on his face. It only flickers for a moment when he sees Harry before it turns to one of confusion and worry. 

“What happened? Who…? Louis’ words spill together. Harry shakes his head, confused for a second. 

“No one. Nothing.” He frowns slightly. Louis assumed someone was hurt or worse. He isn’t sure whether to feel pity on him for that being his automatic reaction or angry that he wouldn’t know why Harry is angrily pounding on his door. 

Louis’ shoulders slump before he really looks at Harry, who is still a ball of nerves and pain. “What’s wrong?” He asks Harry.

“What’s wrong?” Harry could laugh at the absurdity of it. What isn’t wrong?

“You left me!” Harry says probably way too loudly for this time of night and this conversation. “You left me standing in the middle of the pub. You locked me out of your house. You walked past me sitting in your truck and walked to work for fuck sakes. I just need you to talk to me, Louis!” 

Louis’ eyes instantly cloud with something that Harry wants to be regret. He wants Louis to tell him it was a mistake. He wants Louis to throw himself into Harry’s arms and beg forgiveness. 

But it doesn’t happen. Louis just stands there awkwardly, pinching his lips together as though he’s afraid that things will escape from them unwillingly. Harry watches his entire body struggle with the exchange, and he can only imagine what his mind is doing. 

“Zayn tells me it’s because of Jake,” Harry says, a little slower and a little quieter this time. Louis’ face starts to crumple. He puts his arms around himself, holding himself together. 

“Lou,” he says, trying to get him to engage. Louis looks at him, pleads with him with his eyes, but doesn’t speak. “I don’t want to lose you.” 

It’s a decision that he has just made in this moment. He doesn’t have a plan or anything that might resemble one, but he has patience and time so he will use that to his advantage. 

Louis wants to say no. Harry can see it in his eyes. He wants to close the door and lock it again.  His shoulders become rigid under Harry’s touch. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers through a sniffling nose. 

He just needs time to heal. He thinks, he hopes. He pulls Louis into a hug that Louis decidedly doesn’t return, but he doesn’t push Harry away either. “Be safe please. I love you.” 

Then he walks away. He doesn’t look back. He doesn’t know if he could leave if he sees Louis breaking down in the doorway. He looks so small, so fragile. So alone. Harry shoves his hands in his pockets and tries to concentrate on the walk home, instead of whether not he should turn around and just force his way back into Louis’ heart.

 

Harry doesn’t actively avoid Louis. He doesn’t even want to. There is nothing that he would rather see than Louis’ face around town, for him to look at him, maybe even smile at him. For Louis to be reminded that he loves Harry and made a mistake. But it’s been almost three weeks since Harry left Louis’ house in the middle of a cold night, and he hasn’t seen so much as a shadow of him. That means that Louis is most definitely and effectively avoiding Harry. Harry didn’t think that this could hurt anymore than everything else that has happened between them, but it does. 

This is why he startles one late night coming home from a shift at the pub and freezes at the sight of Louis’ frame curled in on itself in his doorstep, eyes closed and mouth set in a fitful glare. 

“Louis?” Harry asks, causing Louis to jump. He stands up slowly, rubbing his back and rear end stiffly. Harry watches him, waiting for an explanation. One doesn’t come. He sees Louis swaying slightly and wonders how much he has had to drink. 

“Louis what are you doing?” He asks outright. 

Louis finally looks at him. Harry can see his eyes are bloodshot red. His skin looks pale even under the dark tan that he has developed out on the water. Louis suddenly stumbles towards him. Harry thinks that he’s going to fall and instinctively reaches out to break his fall. 

To Harry’s surprise Louis isn’t stumbling, he is launching himself into Harry arms. Harry stands frozen for a moment, but can’t resist the pull of Louis’ warm body against his. He wraps his arms around Louis like he has done a hundred times before, feeling like it’s the first time it’s ever happened. He breathes him in, feels his lungs move against his chest. 

“I didn’t mean to come here,” Louis mumbles to Harry. It’s like an ice dagger to his heart. It’s not the apology that Harry has been praying for. He releases Louis like he is made of lava. Louis doesn’t even look surprised. “I’m sorry.” 

He looks sorry. He looks broken and regretful and miserable. Harry can’t even feel angry. He just feels pity. “It’s alright,” he replies. Louis looks at him incredulously. “Do you want to come in?” 

He looks for a split second like he’s going to say yes. In that fleeting moment, Harry pictures him coming in, having a hot drink. Them talking. Harry explaining how they could come back together. Them ending up curled in bed together. But he doesn’t.

“I should go,” he rasps, looking at anything but Harry again. Harry sighs. He can’t very well protest. It’s not his place anymore. He watches Louis retreat with his head down and his hands in his pockets. He trudges into the darkness of his house, feeling more tired than ever.

Harry wakes the next morning feeling sick to his stomach. He doesn’t have to wonder why. He spent the whole night dreaming about Louis. Mostly Louis leaving him over and over on a painful loop. He’s so tired of being angry. He’s tired of being hurt and confused. 

And he’s tired of that voice in the back of his mind that keeps reminding him that Louis still loves him. God, why is that the voice that sticks out? Why not the voice that is telling him to love himself and move on? The voice that is his mother begging him to come home for a while. 

A wave of nausea comes over him again at the thought of leaving. Not yet. He can’t just give up yet. He promised himself that he would give Louis time, and he will. He will just have to deal with his pain on his own. He has to be strong because God knows that Louis isn’t strong right now.

He sighs and opens the fridge. It’s pretty sparse. Liam has been in and out minimally, and Harry has been spending as much time at the pub as possible, usually taking at least a couple of meals there. He isn’t surprised to hear Liam moving around in his room, but he isn’t in the mood to talk to him. Liam has been great since everything has happened, but he can’t help seeing his own future in Liam’s sad eyes. Not today. He yells that’s he’s going out for a coffee and doesn’t wait for a reply. 

 

He volunteers to close up that night. He feels anxious and twitchy all over and sitting home alone won’t help that. There isn’t a crowd. Just a few people wandering in and out all night. He spends most of it in the back, finding small tasks to keep him busy, keep his mind off of anything pertaining to his own life. 

It’s nearly five minutes until he’s set to close when he hears the main door open. He sighs internally and pastes on a fake smile while he walks through the door into the bar. The smile doesn’t last when he sees that it’s Louis sitting on the barstool watching him. 

“We’re closing,” Harry says. He knows that Louis knows this. He also knows that Louis knows that no one else would ever deny him if he showed up at this time of night. He sees the hurt in Louis eyes at his tone. He didn’t even mean to hurt him. He doesn’t want Louis to hurt ever again. 

“I came to apologise,” Louis says. He’s playing with the short hairs on the back of his neck. Harry can’t help but notice how much his hair has grown since he has gone to back to work. He watches it fall in his eyes as he looks at anything but Harry. 

“Alright,” Harry replies. This causes Louis to look up, a bit frustrated. 

“I’m sorry for last night,” he says, not sounding as sorry anymore. Harry just nods. He isn’t sure why he has to try to make things easier for Louis. Louis is the one breaking him from the inside out. 

“I’m trying,” he says a little quieter, a little more to himself. 

“Trying what?” Harry asks. He feels like a masochist. He knows that he doesn’t want to hear anything coming from Louis’ brain right know, but he can’t help it. If he doesn’t ask, then Louis will leave, and he will be alone again. 

“To get over you,” Louis says. It hurts more than Harry expected. 

“I wish you wouldn’t,” Harry pleads. Louis stands abruptly, grabbing himself by the middle. 

“I wish you would take this more seriously!” Louis yells at him. 

“Are you kidding me? You are the love of my life, Louis. I wanted to marry you and have kids with you and grow old with you. You left me less than a month ago, and I hurt everywhere. I couldn’t be taking this more seriously if I tried.” He doesn’t realise until he stops talking that he has come around the bar to stand directly in front of Louis. They are practically nose to nose.

“I’m just trying to protect you,” Louis says, not sounding convincing in the least. 

Harry knows it’s wrong. He knows Louis’ wishes, and he has done his best to respect them. But in this moment, he does the only thing that his body will physically allow him to do. He leans in and kisses Louis with a ferocity that exhibits every ounce of anger and frustration that he has ever felt towards the man. Louis matches it with a needy sadness that Harry can practically taste on his lips. 

They break the kiss, and Louis rests his forehead on Harry’s. Harry desperately wants to keep him there, but he can feel Louis’ energy and Louis wants to run. 

“I’m sorry, Harry,” he says again and turns to leave. Harry wants to grab him. He reaches his hand out, but in the end, he doesn’t. He wants Louis to want him, not be forced to be there. 

“This isn’t over.” Harry sounds more convincing than he feels. Louis turns his head as he’s opening the door. 

“I’m sorry.” Then he’s gone, and the world is gray again.

 

Zayn gently pulls Louis into his lap after he is sure that he is done retching into the toilet. He is propped against the wall, and Louis uses his thighs as a pillow as he lays in the fetal position on the cold tiles. Zayn strokes his hair gently. 

“I’m not going to tell you anything you don’t know, Lou,” he says quietly. “But you know how that man feels about you. You know what he would do for you.”  

“Don’t,” Louis warns him, but it comes out weak and raspy. 

“If you are lying here on a bathroom floor right now, imagine how he’s feeling.” 

This tips Louis over the edge as he begins to sob uncontrollably. Zayn wraps his body around him as best as he can as though to protect him from all the pain he’s feeling. 

 

A few weeks later, Louis starts to slowly get back on his feet. Not better. He doesn’t even know what better feels like at this point, but he can function. He can reason. Or so he thinks. He has been careful. Careful to stay far away from Harry Styles. It’s not as hard as one would think, just a simple matter of keeping alert, staying away from things and people that might cause him to lay eyes on the man. Thinking about him is exhausting enough. Seeing him, especially in person, is like going back to square one. Maybe one day he will be able to lay eyes on Harry without wanting to crawl out of his own skin, without wanting to crawl into Harry’s bed. But this isn’t the day. 

Which is why he instantly fills with dread when he stands at his door, feeling a cool wind whip into his house despite being early July. Niall stands on the other side with a broad and unadulterated smile on his face. 

“Come on,” he says for probably the tenth time since Louis first opened the door. “It’s just dinner at the pub.” 

“You know I can’t do that,” Louis reasons. Everyone in this God forsaken town knows why he can’t go to the pub for dinner. Of all the places that he has to avoid, the pub is probably the least convenient. 

“Come on ya cranky ol’ bastard. You can’t live your life in hidin’.” The smile doesn’t leave Niall’s face, but the lines around his eyes harden a little. “It’s not like Harry wouldn’t want to see ya.” 

“He shouldn’t want to see me.” Louis feels like he’s been punched in the chest just at hearing Harry’s name. 

“Well he does, and I’m hungry and he’s making this meat pie that makes me want to make an honest man of myself.” 

Louis huffs, trying not to laugh at Niall’s deep love for good food. He shouldn’t want to go to the pub and see Harry. He feels guilty for the small thrill up his spine at the idea of Harry still being happy to see him despite the mess Louis has made of both of their lives. 

“Just dinner, and then I’m coming back home. We’re shoving off first thing.” Louis tries to sound stern, but Niall is already crowding him back into the house with a fierce smile on his face. 

“Let’s get ya clothed then. Don’t wanna be scarin the neighbors.” Niall pushes him towards his room.  _ Just dinner,  _ Louis repeats to himself until they are walking out the door towards Payne’s. 

 

They sit at a table. Louis feels like a trespasser in his own town. Niall is effectively pretending that everything is normal, chattering along. Louis feels the urge to bolt for the door as soon as Niall turns his back. That is until Harry walks towards their table, smiling instinctively and timidly as soon as Louis looks at him. Louis just looks down, pretending that his beer mat is incredibly interesting all of a sudden. 

“Ya got pie m’son?” Niall asks as soon as Harry is in listening range. 

“Course,” Harry replies. 

“Top lad.” Niall smiles brightly. Harry just kind of stares at him for a minute before turning to Louis. It makes him feel hot all over. 

“Can I get you anything, Lou?” He asks considerably softer of voice this time. 

“Just a beer if you don’t mind,” Louis mumbles. 

“Food,” Niall commands, leveling a look at Louis that isn’t negotiable. 

“A sandwich?” He asks Niall. Niall tilts his head in reluctant assent. 

“Coming right up,” Harry says, still quiet and soft. He stays for a moment, but Louis can’t bear to really give him any attention. It’s too much.

As soon as Harry leaves their table Louis stands up. “I need a smoke,” he says, not waiting for a reply. 

 

When he shows up at Harry’s door that night he doesn’t even remember how he got there. He went out for a walk to clear his head. That’s what he told himself anyway, and Zayn watched him leave with concern etched deep in his face. He stands at the door, wondering why he isn’t knocking and at the same time wondering why he is even there when the door opens. 

Harry doesn’t even look surprised to see him, just opens the door wider, inviting him in. 

“I didn’t mean…” Louis starts, not really being able to say what it is that he didn’t mean to do. Didn’t mean to come again? Didn’t mean to bother Harry? Didn’t mean to destroy them both?

“I know you didn’t, but you’re here now,” Harry replies, stubbornly keeping the door open for Louis to walk through. He does, going straight towards Harry’s room. Harry doesn’t protest, just follows him silently. 

When he wakes the next morning, it’s still dark outside, and Harry is sleeping peacefully next to him. He wonders if this is what it feels like to actually hate yourself as he sneaks out of the room carrying most of his clothes and goes straight to the harbour, not wanting to face the scrutiny of Zayn and on a more self loathing level, to not give Harry a chance to catch up to him once he sees that he’s gone. 

 

Work is a good distraction, but their trip home comes too soon and he’s on hard soil once more, driving home towards the place he wants nothing more than to run from. Liam has been giving him a wide berth on the boat. Louis wants to believe that it’s because he is being supportive, but he suspects that he’s more of a bitter reminder of the pain that Zayn had caused him only a few months before. 

It’s not that he didn’t think this through. It’s not that he doesn’t know how completely idiotic he looks. He feels like he is making the biggest decision of his life. Every bone in his body is screaming to him that he’s wrong. 

But then that look in Harry’s eyes flashes into his brain. The fear, the pain, the uncertainty. He is too good for that. Harry deserves to live a life with someone who doesn’t make him wonder if they will grow old together. Harry has to know that this is for him. No matter how much it hurts now. It will get better. 

“Fuck,” he hisses to himself when he pulls into his driveway. Harry is sitting on the step, clearly waiting for him as he stands as soon as Louis’ tires hit the gravel. 

He takes a deep breath and puts the truck in park. Harry isn’t walking towards the truck, just watching him from the step, waiting for Louis to come to him. He does, he hasn’t got a choice, both because he has nowhere to go and because it’s Harry and he somehow can’t seem to pull himself away. 

When he walks to Harry, he stops just short of touching him. Neither of them reach out physically, but Louis can feel his touch just the same. Louis remains close lipped, waiting for Harry. 

“You left,” Harry says. His voice isn’t accusatory though. He is just making an observation. 

“I had to work,” Louis replies, feeling every ounce the dick that he knows he sounds. 

“You could have woken me. I wanted to see you before you went,” Harry says. His voice is soft, caring. It makes Louis’ insides shift in an uncomfortable way.

“You shouldn’t want to see me,” Louis says, looking at the ground near Harry’s shoes. He can feel Harry’s reaction. He jerks like Louis has slapped him across the face. 

“Still?” Harry’s voice rises. 

“Still what? Still me doing a job that could kill me? Still you deserving more than that?” Louis didn’t mean to raise his voice, and maybe he didn’t, but his throat is tight like he’s been screaming for hours. “Yes, Harry, still. I can’t change this. I can’t be someone else. You need…” 

Harry stop him with a kiss so hard that it hurts, but Louis craves the pain. It feels like a punishment for what he’s doing to the man he loves. 

Harry pulls away just as abruptly as he came to Louis, leaving Louis almost falling into Harry’s chest. “You don’t get to tell me what I deserve, what I want. That’s mine.” Harry forces Louis’ eyes on his own. It’s almost too much. 

“You’re mine,” he says before releasing Louis completely. 

“Harry…” Louis is ready to protest but Harry just puts his hand up, cutting off communications. 

“Don’t ever sneak out of my room in the middle of the night again,” Harry says and walks away without another word. 

Louis waits until Harry is out of view and well down the road before he sits down and properly hyperventilates. 

 

Louis walks into the house alone. He somehow feels rejected even though that is actually the opposite of what happened. He walks into the kitchen feeling tired and heavy. Zayn is leaning against the counter, sipping at a mug. He hands another one to Louis who silently takes it and takes a swig of warm sweet coffee. It’s too late in the day for coffee, but Louis doesn’t even care. 

“I suppose you saw that,” Louis mumbles into his cup. 

“Mhm,” Zayn replies.

“Well give it to me.” Louis moves to stand next to him. He needs to feel close to someone. Zayn is his best option right now. His only option his brain helpfully supplies. 

“Why don’t we do something fun tonight?” Zayn says, throwing Louis off for a second. 

“I’m really not in the mood.” He shakes his head. 

“I know you aren’t. You aren’t in the mood for anything. You need something good right now. Something fun.” Zayn smiles at him although this eyes look sad. “Let’s go out and forget about this shit for a minute.” 

Louis really looks at Zayn for the first time since he walked into the house. His body is relaxed, his smile is genuine, but there are dark circles under his eyes and lines where there weren’t any before. Louis remembers that he isn’t the only one in the house who is going through some shit. He sighs and slumps against Zayn’s side, taking the last dregs of coffee. 

“Not the pub,” he replies quietly. 

“Fuck no,” Zayn agrees, and it causes them to burst out laughing at their own sad little joke. 

 

They end up in St. John’s. All they plan to do is drink, but at least it’s surrounded by faces they don’t recognize. They settle at a bar that they both know pretty well and order their first round silently. 

“I’m not sure I’m going to be much for company,” Louis says. He looks at Zayn who just shrugs. 

“S’alright,” Zayn replies. 

“Am I making a mistake, Z?” He asks into his beer.  Zayn doesn’t move beside him, doesn’t really react at all until he takes a deep breath and releases it noisily. 

“Do you want to know the truth?” Zayn asks, voice gentle. 

“Yeah, why not?” Louis chuckles humorlessly. 

“Do you think I made a mistake leaving Liam?” 

Louis sighs. Fucking Zayn going straight for the kill. He takes a long swig of his beer before answering. “That was different,” je says, knowing how Zayn will react to that.

“That’s not an answer, but I will tell you anyway.” Zayn turns to him. His face is calm and passive, and Louis wonders how he does it. From where Louis sits, it would seem like Zayn’s life is falling apart. How does he fake it like that? Louis could use some lessons. 

“I made the stupidest decision of my life walking out of that town. I left Liam, I left you…” Zayn pauses for a second, eyes shifting to something else. “And for what?” 

“You had your reasons.” Louis tries to defend Zayn if for nothing else but to defend himself. Zayn just shakes his head. 

“I thought I was doing Liam a favour.” Zayn raises an eyebrow at Louis. Louis scowls at his implications. “I was broken. I thought I would be doing everyone a favour to just let them move on. I wanted Liam to have someone who could love him the way he deserved. I wanted Liam to have someone who didn’t hold him back. Look how that turned out.” 

“Zayn, you went to get better. You are better! You can’t be blamed for what you did when you weren’t healthy.” Louis puts his hand on Zayn’s back, rubbing small circles between his shoulder blades. 

“I didn’t leave Liam because I wanted better for him. I left him because I was too scared to get better.” Zayn looks at Louis with a hard stare. “It was easier to run away than to face what was really going on inside my head.” 

“I’m not..” Louis says

“Running?” Zayn asks. “If you can’t see it then you aren’t ready.” 

“Ready for what?” 

“To mourn, to heal.” Zayn turns back to his beer, emptying the bottle with one hand while signalling for another with the other hand. “We aren’t here for that tonight though. We both need a break from trying to fix our crazy asses. Drink up.” A fresh drink appears in front of Louis. The conversation wraps around his shoulders like an itchy blanket, but it’s like he is being given permission to stop punishing himself for a few hours, and he’s taking it. He drinks.

He doesn’t stop drinking until the bartender cuts him off by discreetly passing him a glass of water. Louis is about to tell him where to shove the glass when Zayn pulls him down by the belt loop of his jeans. 

“Not worth it,” Zayn slurs, nearly as bad as Louis is at this point. “Gonna call Ed, see if we can crash.” 

Zayn gets up slowly and pulls the phone out of his back pocket. 

Louis doesn’t want to stay on Ed’s couch. He doesn’t want to spoon Zayn. He wants Harry.  _ Harry Harry Harry _ is running on a loop in his head, and he almost unconsciously pulls the phone out of his own pocket. He has to set the phone on the bar in order to keep it still enough to dial, but he eventually gets it right and revels in the soft thrill he gets knowing that Harry’s voice is going to be on the other end.

“Hello?” Harry’s voice comes through. It’s a sleepy voice. Louis wonders if Harry was sleepy. 

“You sleepy?” He asks. 

“I was asleep, what is going on?” Harry asks. 

“I don’t want to sleep with Zayn,” Louis slurs. “Wanna sleep with you.” 

“You what?” Harry sounds more awake now. That’s good. He can come and pick him up then if he’s awake. 

“Come get me? I can sleep with you instead,” Louis mumbles over his words. They are definitely not coming out the way they sound in his head. He wants to say that he misses Harry, that he wants to spend the night with him. That he wants to forget everything bad has ever happened. 

“No more bad stuff.” Comes out mumbled and slurred. Louis wants to cry he’s so frustrated. 

“Louis are you drunk?” Harry asks. 

“Duh,” Louis replies, laughing at his joke. 

“Louis!” Harry yells into his ear. He has to pull it away to avoid damage. “Where are you?” 

“Uhhh, O’Reilly’s?” Louis looks around to confirm, but he can’t really see past his own nose at this point. “I think.” 

“Where the fuck is that?” Harry demands. 

“St. John’s,” Louis replies sassily. “Me’n Zayn. Wanna forget for a while. Things are shit Harry. Really fucking shit.” 

“Well whose fault is that?” Harry grumbles. 

“I know,” Louis says, stroking the phone. The phone that Harry is in. 

Harry is quiet on the other end for a bit, and Louis is too busy listening to him making weird muffled noises on the other end to keep up conversation. Finally, Harry sighs. “Alright. I found the address. Don’t move.”

“Ok, H. Love you.” Louis smiles, closing his eyes. 

“Jesus Christ,” Harry mutters before hanging up on him. 

Zayn says something similar when Louis tells him that Harry is coming to get him. 

  
  


Harry watches Louis sleep fitfully. It’s well into the morning, and Harry has things to do, but he waits for Louis to wake up. He doesn’t feel like he can leave him alone or leave what he has to say for another time. When he thinks about the night before, his emotions range from hopeful and happy to blinding rage. He can’t believe that Louis has said these things to him after months of trying to shut him out, but at the same time he  _ can’t believe that Louis said those things to him.  _

Louis opens his eyes and looks at Harry warily. He opens his mouth as though he’s going to say something, but closes it again and grimaces at the small movement.

“You alright?” Harry asks. Louis brings his hand up to his head, touching his forehead delicately, but nods. “You remember anything about last night?” 

“No,” Louis rasps. 

“Nothing?” Harry pushes, feeling the bile rise in his stomach. 

“Not nothing, but...not a lot.” He looks around for the first time, still moving slowly and deliberately. “Why am I at yours?” 

“You wouldn’t get out of the car at yours,” Harry says. It was almost comical the night before, the way that Louis clung to him, insisting he needed to sleep in Harry’s bed, that it was the only place he could sleep.

“Oh,” Louis replies, a small glimmer of realisation lighting his eyes, followed immediately by something resembling dread. “Harry…” 

“Save it.” Harry’s voice hardens immediately. “I know what you’re going to say, and it’s bullshit.” He stands up, needing as much distance from Louis’ body as possible. “You love me, Louis. I love you, and you love me. We were happy.” 

“Yeah but-”

“Yeah but nothing! I gave you a chance. I was willing to give you as much time as you needed. I can’t even imagine how hard it was to lose Jake. And you needed to process that, but you can’t force people to stop caring about you...just in case…” 

“Just in case of what, Harry?” Louis sits up. He immediately pales, and Harry wonders if he’s going to have to puke, but he only pauses for a second before his colour returns. “You can’t even say it out loud! I could die! I go out there, and there are about a hundred things that could kill me. And it’s not the same, I don’t care what anyone says. It’s not the same as worrying about someone’s heart stopping or getting hit by a car. I put myself in the face of danger every day of the week when I’m on the water, and you can’t stop thinking about it.” 

Harry shakes his head, but doesn’t reply. He can’t deny that the idea of Louis doing something so dangerous, needing it even, terrifies him. 

“You want to live with that feeling? The one in your gut right now? You want to grow old with that? Because this is me, Harry. I can’t change this.”

“I’d rather have the fear of losing you out there than knowing that I’ll never be able to love you again,” Harry whispers but the message comes through loud and clear. 

“Well I don’t know if I can live with doing that to you.”  Louis looks down, deflating from the small burst of energy. 

Harry sighs. He can feel the tears burning the lids of his eyes, threatening to spill over at a moment’s notice. “I know one thing Louis.” He takes a deep breath, forcing the words out while he still has the courage. “I can’t do this anymore.” 

“Do what?” Louis doesn’t need to ask because he already knows. Harry can see in his eyes that he knows. 

“I can’t keep being here. I can’t keep watching you walk away or telling me that you can’t be with me. I want you. I love you, but I can’t be your punching bag anymore.” He takes another shaky breath and wipes the tears that are flowing freely from his eyes. “If you tell me right now that you want me, I am here. But if you can’t, I’m going home. I can’t be here and watch you do this to yourself. To both of us.” 

Louis throws the blanket off of himself. Harry is grateful that he decided to let him sleep in his clothes on after Louis passed out as soon as his head the pillow. “You’re leaving?” He comes to stand in front of Harry. 

“What do you want me to do?” Harry asks. It’s partly sarcastic, partly pleading. Louis just looks at him, mouth open, expression blank. 

“When?” Louis asks. 

“I-I don’t know. Soon.” Louis’ face crumples, but he just nods. Harry’s heart falls. It’s not like he is using leaving as a threat, but some small part of him thought that maybe it would be a push to make Louis see what he is doing. 

“Right.” He continues when Louis doesn’t say anything more. “I have a lot to do today. You can let yourself out.” 

He turns around and walks out the door without daring to look back at Louis standing in his bedroom door. 

 

Harry doesn’t see Louis again that day or any of the days after. He’s vaguely aware that he is likely working as Liam took off just yesterday morning. He can’t decide whether he is relieved or disturbed that Louis didn’t reach out, but it’s too late to think about that now. Maybe that’s his answer. Maybe this is his chance to slip away quietly, minimal drama, minimal tears. 

But in the meantime, he is still here. He still has a job, and he still loves the life he has made for himself in this little town, despite the shit turn it’s taken. Karen is actually forcing days off on him because he has all but moved into the kitchen, dealing with his stress and worry by baking and cooking. 

He tries to commit to spending the day at home, except everything he seems to do brings him to the empty suitcase in the back of his closet. He actively thinks about pulling it out and filling it. Thinks about packing his whole life and leaving this place, leaving Louis. He slams the closet door shut and decides to do laundry another day. 

By dinnertime he has talked himself in and out of leaving a few dozen times, and the house is so clean that his socks squeak on the floors. He’s sitting on his bedroom floor, the suitcase has somehow made it out of the closet and onto his bed, still empty, but open and waiting. He sighs, willing himself to just fucking do something, but he stays in his spot, just staring at the worn edges and smudged red canvas. He spent months and months living out of that suitcase. It was at one time a silent companion. He thinks if he packs it right now, the next time it’s unpacked he will have to burn it. 

A loud rap on the door startles him out of his dark thoughts, and he rushes towards it, welcoming any kind of distraction. When he gets to the kitchen, Niall is already taking his shoes off at the door, a big smile on his face.

“Hey,” Harry says tentatively. He’s still not used to happy, friendly Niall, made only more creepy that he seems to be the only one in Petty Harbour that has noticed the dramatic shift in his character. 

“Whadda y’at my lovely?” Niall asks, going in for a friendly embrace. 

“Oh, you know…” Harry looks at his feet, willing all of the words that threaten to tumble out to stay put. “Housework.” 

“Good lad.” Niall beams. “Where’s Liam?” 

“Um, not here. Working, I assume.” Harry shrugs, trying to pull off nonchalance. Niall looks confused, more than he should. It’s all they have talked about and done for the last four months. 

“At the pub?” He asks. Now it’s Harry’s turn to be confused. 

“Fishing?” Harry feels unsure now. His wonder if he’s missing something is replaced by the instant look of worry on Niall’s face, immediately followed by one of his fingernails being stuck between his teeth. “What’s going on?” 

“Uhhm.” Niall tries to school his features, throws on a fake smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “I’m sure it’s nothing.” 

“What Niall?” Harry demands, voice rising involuntarily. 

“There’s a storm coming in. A big one. It shifted early this morning, heading straight for most of us. Everyone headed in. Everyone's home right now.” Niall’s fingers go back in his mouth. He isn’t hiding the worry at all anymore, and if Niall’s worried, then Harry is panicking. 

“What does that mean?” 

“I don’t know. They were a little further out than us, but they should have been back by now. I’m sure it’ll be fine. The storm’s a few hours out still.” He can see Niall doing the math in his head. Niall knows the water as well as anyone. He knows that something is off. 

Harry looks out the window. He realises that he didn’t really pay attention to the weather, but he can see that the air has turned into a dark haze, and the few trees that he can see from the front of the house are starting to lean with the wind. 

“Are you sure a few hours?” Harry asks. 

“A few hours until you wouldn’t want to be in it.” Niall nods. He pulls his phone out of his back pocket, but must not see anything there he likes because he shoves it hastily into his back pocket again without even unlocking it. “Come on, let’s go to the pub.” 

 

“Fine time for the engine to overheat!” Louis yells over the blast of the wind. Liam spends .02 seconds to lift his head and give Louis a dark glare before his head is back into the small access to the engine. 

“We can either keep trying to head to harbour and have to stop every hour or so, or we sit here.” He finally says as he sits back up on his haunches and wipes his hands on the already dirty rag. “The head is cracked, and I can’t fix it here. If we take the fresh water from the galley it will get us farther faster, but it’s still going to be a trip home.” 

“Fuck!” Louis yells. It’s the only outburst he will allow himself. They can’t afford it. 

Greg ducks his head into the engine room and only nods at them both. “We’re going to keep going,” he says with grim determination. 

He and Liam both nod and start getting ready for a long journey. 

 

A crowd starts to build in the pub. It reminds Harry more of when he first moved here, and no one had anything to do but socialise with one another. It would feel good except there is a strong undercurrent of nerves surrounding each person. Karen has moved the tv out into the bar, and the news has been blasting for a few hours. People still talk, and he can hear a rumble of laughter now and then, but all is silent when any mention of the weather or The Olivia come on. 

They are still out there, somewhere. By the time the coast guard were alerted to their situation, they said it was too late to send out a rescue team. Karen immediately began to cry when she saw it announced by the local news anchor. Harry felt furious, but he tried to keep it together for Karen’s sake. And a little for his own sake, too, he guesses. 

Niall sits down beside him and leans close. It feels good not to be alone. He gives Niall a wan smile, and Niall rubs his arm. “They’ll be alright. We’ve got to believe that.” 

“I know,” Harry replies, but his voice sounds small and unsure. 

“I’m glad you’re here,” Niall continues. It startles Harry out of his own worries for a second. 

“Why?” He asks, dumbfounded. 

“Comfort,” Niall says simply. “I’m bricking it right now.” 

“Oh Niall, I’m sorry. I’ve been thinking about nothing but myself.” He hugs Niall, not worrying about how he would feel about it. He’s happy to know that Niall returns it wholeheartedly. 

“We all have b’y. We all have.” 

 

With no one in a hurry to head home, feeling the comfort in each other’s company as the wind rattles the windows and doors, Harry has begun a big potluck type of supper for everyone there. It keeps his mind off of what’s happening on the tv screen and outside the comfort of the building. The propane stoves don’t slow down whenever the power flickers either, and that in itself feels like a comfort to Harry. He’s just setting a platter on one of the empty tables when he feels a hand on his arm. He turns to find Louis’ mother looking at him with sad, concerned eyes.

“I thought I’d find ya here.” She smiles at Harry. Harry can do nothing but go into her arms, thankful that she takes him in easily despite everything that has happened between him and Louis. 

“I’m sorry.” He pulls back, wiping his eyes. “Are you ok? Can I do anything?” 

“No love. I’m not staying. I’m just heading home to be with the little ones. I wanted to make sure you are safe and with friends.” 

“Louis…” He stops. He can’t explain every feeling that is going through him at the moment. 

“I know,” she says like it’s that simple. “It’ll be ok. We have to believe that. I have to believe it every time he steps foot on that rig, and I have to believe it now. He’ll come back to us.” 

“He doesn’t…”  _ He doesn’t want me, _ he wants to say. He can’t. 

“Yes, he does.” She gives him a fierce look that isn’t to be argued. “I’ll be seeing you when this is all over. And I don’t want no for an answer.” 

Another wave of fear and love and worry wash over him, but he nods and hugs her before she covers her head with her big parka and goes out into the dying light once again. 

  
  


Louis and Liam stay huddled in the engine room while everyone else hunkers down in their bunks. Everyone that is except Greg, who is alternating between driving and lugging water to cool the engine. He is so cold. The temperature has dropped significantly, and Louis can’t even remember what it feels like to be dry. They sit close to leech each other’s heat, but even that doesn’t stop Louis’ teeth from chattering. 

“It’s overheating again!” Liam yells over the sound of wind and waves crashing around them. Louis just nods as they both stand to make their way to the wheelhouse to notify Greg to shut down again and get what precious little clean water they have left. 

It’s a short distance to actually be outside, but every time they make the trip it’s harder to manage it. The wind is so strong, and the swell of the water is causing the boat to shift in angles that Louis didn’t even think possible. They try to be careful, but even careful is a precarious journey. 

They are a few short steps to the safety of the wheelhouse when they crash into another swell, pitching the rig violently. Louis hangs onto the rail with both hands, but Liam slips, sliding him halfway down the deck on the other side of the boat. He crash lands with a sickening thud, but doesn’t go over. 

“Liam!” Louis screams as Liam’s body is flung against yet another hard surface when the boat rights itself once again. “Someone help!” 

Suddenly, he sees people moving around him as they carefully make their way to Liam. 

“Come on, Liam bud.” Oli taps his face gently. Liam scowls and opens his eyes which is difficult with the rain still blasting down. 

“Let’s get him inside!” Louis yells, and everyone takes a piece of Liam that they can reach and leads him into into the bunk room down below. 

  
  


Harry reluctantly waves goodbye to the last hanger on of the night. It’s nearly one am and the storm shows no sign of letting up. People start to make excuses about needing to get home to husbands and wives and kids. They mention the old tree that’s starting to rot and could be taken down from the wind. The truth is that everyone is tired. Harry has been at the pub for almost twelve hours as it was. Twelve hours of stress and worry. Twelve hours of being just a jumble of nerves. He sighs as he goes to turn the lights off for the front sign. 

He hears a rapping on the glass just as he’s about to shut the lights off to the bar. His heart goes to his throat because even though he knows it isn’t true, the first thought he has is Louis. He walks back to the front anyway and is surprised by who he sees.

Zayn walks through the door, shaking off the rain and shielding himself from the wind at his back. He locks the door behind him with a familiarity that reminds Harry that Zayn is as intertwined in this place as Louis and Liam are. It makes his heart lurch a bit. He wants to grasp onto that familiarity that is running through Zayn. 

Instead, he follows Zayn behind the bar and watches him pour himself a drink. “What are you doing out?” He asks. 

“Went around to yours, saw you weren’t there. Thought I’d come and sit with you awhile,” Zayn replies in his quiet voice. 

They both sit down on a barstool and take great interest in their glasses for a few minutes. “Are you scared?” Harry asks. 

“Yeah, ‘course.” Zayn nods.  

Harry takes a deep breath. His conversations with Zayn have never really run smoothly. He’s not entirely sure why Zayn would even want to spend time with him, even under such circumstances. “Are you scared that you will never get him back?” 

“I am, yeah.” Zayn looks at him, studies him for a second. “But the idea of never having him back just makes me want to fight harder for him.” 

The words make something break deep inside of Harry. He doesn’t know if he has actually let himself think about never having Louis back. Even when he was close to leaving he didn’t let his mind go there. But he is now, and the floodgates are open. He hurts in a way that he never even knew was possible. 

As he lets out an uncontrollable sob, he feels arms circle him. He leans into Zayn’s slender frame, seeking comfort in any form that is being offered. “I know that I’m going to love Liam for the rest of my life. And I suspect that you feel the same about Louis.” Harry just nods. “So why walk away? The hurt of giving up is so much greater than fighting.”

“What if it never happens?” 

“Then I will die knowing that I tried,” Zayn replies, resolute in his decision. 

“What if we never see them again?” Harry asks, daring to say it out loud. 

“We can’t think that way.” Zayn immediately shakes his head. “Unless someone tells me otherwise, they’re alive, and Liam is coming home. I’m going to be there when it happens. Whether he wants me there or not.” 

“Me too,” Harry agrees before he even knows what he’s saying. Zayn gives him a hint of a smile and nods. 

“I’m sorry I was such a dick to you when I came back. And the months since I guess,” Zayn says, looking truly apologetic. 

“It’s alright.” Harry reaches for his glass again. He isn’t sure he has the energy for this conversation. 

“No, it’s not. I was jealous. You had the life I was hoping would be mine when I came back. I would have probably handled everything a little better when I came back if it weren’t for you being all happy and in love and having my best friend and the love of my life wrapped around your baby finger.” 

“For what it’s worth, I wasn’t very happy with you either,” Harry replies, trying to hide the smirk from his face. 

“Why’s that?” Zayn asks, sounding not at all surprised. 

“My sex life became significantly quieter when you moved into Louis’ guest room.” He mock glares at Zayn for less than a second before they both burst out laughing. 

“A true tragedy.” Zayn smiles and takes a sip of his beer. 

“I know,” Harry replies, quiet again because the tragedy is unfolding right outside the door. He can see Zayn looking towards where the ocean lies. 

 

Louis doesn’t think that Liam has a concussion, but he really doesn’t like the nasty bruise forming on his temple, and he definitely doesn’t miss the way he tenses and cringes every time the boat shifts. 

He tries to keep him alert by talking. He tries to keep him warm by wrapping Liam in his arms. They are currently in the middle of a rousing game of  _ when I get off this boat. _

“When I get off this boat, I’m going to turn every heater in the house up full blast.” Liam half chuckles as Louis tries to adjust the blankets over him. 

“Yeah, same,” he says. “When I get off this boat, I’m going to go to the pub and get Karen to feed me everything she has in her kitchen.” 

“You really think that Mum will be at the pub at your beck and call when I’m injured?” Liam snorts.

“You’re probably right,” Louis replies. He’s about to say that Harry will have to do, but he doesn’t even know if Harry is in the country anymore. Louis wouldn’t blame him if he wasn’t. 

As if Liam could read his thoughts, he quietly says, “When I get off this boat, I’m going to tell Zayn that I still love him.” 

Louis is shocked into silence. He wondered if Liam actually did still love Zayn after the way he has been treating him, despite the tremendous amount of effort Zayn has put into trying to be a part of Liam’s life again. “Really? Are you sure?” 

“Yeah, of course I’m sure,” Liam replies as thought Louis is the daft one in this conversation. 

“What made you change your mind?” He asks anyway. 

“We could die tonight,” Liam replies. His words are simple, but they hold a weight that Louis has felt since the first gust of wind. “We could never see land again. This could be it.” 

Liam carefully shifts in the small bunk so that he’s lying on his back. Louis sits up trying to keep them under the blankets. “I am facing death knowing that Zayn doesn’t know how much I love him. And I hate that. I don’t feel at peace, Lou.” He looks desperately at Louis. All Louis can do is frown and look away. 

“What about everything else? What about what happened before?” He isn’t talking about what happened between Liam and Zayn, and Liam knows it. 

“Who cares what happened before? Love is love, and people are people. We do stupid shit and then we try to learn from it. I don’t care anymore that he didn’t say goodbye when he left. I care about everything he has done since he got back. And if we do get off this God forsaken boat, I want to spend the rest of my life making up for the time we lost.” 

Louis nods. But in the back of his head all he can think is that it’s different for them. Louis didn’t leave Harry because he did something bad. “I’m just trying to protect him.” 

“But you’re not. He’s still scared. He’s still heartbroken. The only difference is that all he gets now is to be heartbroken. And all you get to be is lonely. Is that a life you want if we are lucky enough to be spared from this?” Liam asks, making Louis feel more exposed than he ever has. 

“Heartbroken,” he repeats, almost to himself. 

“Yes, both of you are. At least if you were going to live in fear, you could do it together instead of apart.”

“God, I’ve been so stupid.” Louis puts his hands to his eyes. He wants to shield himself from the entire world. 

“You’ve been dealing with some shit. No one blames you, Lou,” Liam replies softly, reaching for one of Louis’ hands. Louis gives it to him but shakes his head. 

“Someone blames me. He could be long gone by now.” And then he’ll really be alone, he adds in his head. 

“So what are you going to do?” Liam asks. 

“When I get off this boat….” Louis says before taking a steadying breath, “I’m going to find Harry.” 

“That’s right you are.” Liam smiles. Louis smiles too. It feels like it’s been years since he has smiled. 

Suddenly, something feels strange. He stills and listens. 

“What is it?” Liam asks, suddenly looking concerned. 

“Do you hear that?” Louis asks. 

“I don’t hear anything,” Liam replies, looking around. 

“Exactly. I think the storm is over.” Louis grins so wide it makes his cheeks hurt. Liam pauses for a second before breaking down, letting the tears fall free from his eyes. They were going to be ok.

 

Harry and Zayn sit at the harbour. The sun is just about to rise and neither of them thought there would be any sense in going home now. Karen had called less than an hour before telling him that the coast guard had lost contact with The Olivia a few hours ago, but were sending out search and rescue as soon as the storm had calmed enough.

So now there is nothing to do but wait. 

It’s eerily quiet. There are no people milling around, the dock is full of secured boats. They don’t look too horrible as a whole although the lighter the day gets the more destruction Harry can find from where he sits. 

It seems like they wait forever just the two of them. But in reality it’s no less than an hour before there is a figure worming his way between them, an arm around each shoulder. 

“What’s the word, lads?” Niall asks, leaning his head on Zayn’s shoulder. 

“Waitin’,” Zayn replies, never taking his eyes off the harbour. 

“Been lots of that goin’ around hasn’t there?” Niall replies. “Mind if I stay?” 

He looks towards Harry. 

“I’m glad you’re here,” Harry tells him. 

“I’m glad I’m here too,” he says. 

He isn’t the last to arrive. Karen and Jay come shortly after, followed by family and friends of the rest of the crew. Soon it seems that the entire town is lingering around the harbour, a low hum of conversation but everyone's faced towards the water. No one takes their eyes off the horizon. 

Suddenly, there’s a yell over the crowd. Harry doesn’t understand the words but everyone rushes forward a bit. He looks out and sees the search and rescue boat in the distance. There seems to be a collective pause as everyone waits as if in limbo for any word on what they found. Every scenario seems to running a furious loop in Harry’s head. The worst ones of course in the forefront.

He doesn’t have to wonder for long though because not far behind the search and rescue boat is the smaller but very much in tact Olivia. A roaring cheer erupts around Harry. Harry feels like his entire body deflates as the tension eases from his shoulders. He claps half heartedly along with the rest of the crowd, but knows that until he sees Louis’ face, this is not over. 

Everyone but the families of the crew back off in some unspoken understanding as the boat comes closer to the dock. There is an anticipation thrumming through the crowd as they wait. The first face that anyone sees is Greg’s as he steers into the harbour with one hand and gives a huge wave with the other. Karen immediately bursts into tears as she waves back. Next is Oli and Shawn, leaving over the sides, doing the same thing. They look tired, but so happy, as happy as everyone else is to see them. 

As the boat comes to a stop Jessie, the newest member of the crew, is the first to jump off. She gives a small wave, but Harry can tell that she’s on the verge of breaking down. She helps to tie up to the dock like a loyal crew member would then immediately fall into her husband’s arms. He tucks her into his side as people come towards her giving her comfort and support. 

“I don’t see them.” Zayn steps up beside Harry. Harry wants to snap at him that he knows that. He obviously doesn’t see them either. But he just nods. 

Suddenly, he sees something out of the corner of his eye, two figures in uniform rushing towards the vessel. Harry’s heart drops so hard that he can almost hear the thud it makes when it hits his stomach. 

But just as the paramedics board, he sees two dark brunette heads of hair appear over the side of the deck. Louis has his arm around Liam’s waist, and Liam is leaning heavily on him. But they’re both smiling. 

“Oh thank God,” Zayn whispers. 

They both release a deep breath as they watch Liam painstakingly make his way towards a waiting ambulance. Zayn immediately follows and hangs back while Liam gets situated on a gurney. He watches Zayn hesitate as Karen gives her attention to Liam. But when Liam sees him, something breaks in the space between them. Zayn takes the precious steps closer, and Harry watches words spoken that he can’t hear. He knows what is being said anyway. 

It’s almost too much, too intimate for the large crowd surrounding them. He turns away, hoping to catch a glimpse of Louis again, but he doesn’t need to because Louis is standing right in front of him. He is pale and wet. His hair is plastered to his forehead. He looks as though he hasn’t slept in days. He takes Harry’s breath away. 

He doesn’t know how long they stare at each other, he doesn’t really care. “Lou…” He says, wanting to give him so much all at once. 

Louis doesn’t respond, just leans forward and kisses him. Harry wraps himself around him, wanting to hold him, to protect him, to give him a promise. 

“Will you have me?” Louis asks, barely letting his mouth leave Harry’s. 

“Forever,” Harry responds, kissing him again. 

 

Louis sits down in his usual spot. He greets almost a dozen people who want to shake his hand, give him a pat on the back. Louis wonders if they need to touch him just to confirm that he’s actually alive, that he beat the odds. But he smiles anyway, letting them have their moment, letting them comfort themselves by comforting him. 

When he turns, there’s a beer in front of him, just the way he likes it. He lifts it and tips it towards the bartender who smiles and leans over the bar to give him a quick peck on the cheek. It’s been barely twelve hours since he’s stepped foot on dry land, and it seems that nearly everyone who has ever lived in Petty Harbour is crammed into the pub. Niall has a bit of an audience in one corner, strumming jaunty tunes, laughing his way through most of the lyrics. Liam is propped up on a chair, one casted leg on a chair but refusing to be anywhere else but there. Karen and Zayn are taking turns fussing over them, but Zayn is also behind the bar helping Harry who is running like a fool trying to keep everyone in drink. Somewhere in the distance he can hear Greg’s voice telling the story of them fighting the storm to get home. He smiles to himself. Home. There isn’t a word that sounds more sweet. 

It’s made sweeter knowing that he has his love to come home to. He has no idea how he got so lucky finding Harry to begin with but he thanks whatever brought him. He had planned for his day to be filled with hard talks and apologies, but Harry has refused either. He knew why Louis had done what he had done, and he was just glad that they got through it. Louis still made him a dozen promises to never do it again, and Harry reminded him that there was a word for that.

Louis definitely plans on proposing before summer is over, maybe when they are in Maine visiting Harry’s mum. His stomach clenches with nerves at the thought of it. Harry glances over at him again, giving him a smile that suggests that they have a secret that the rest of the world doesn’t know. And maybe they do. No one could possibly understand how much he loves this man. He doesn’t even understand it some days. He smiles back, giving him a quick wink before Harry is off to the next task. 

Suddenly Niall is booming over all of the crowd with a big smile on his face.. “Ay! I’ve got an announcement to make! Seems our Harry has been keeping secrets from us!” 

Louis looks at Harry who is just as confused as everyone else seems to be. 

“Turns out that young Harry used to be a famous songwriter before he blessed all of us when his bar keeping skills. And I think if we pester him enough, he’ll sing us a song!” 

Harry immediately puts his hands up to protest, but everyone starts to cheer and chant, and his shoulders slump before he shoots Louis an apologetic look. Louis just smiles and shrugs his shoulders, urging him on like the rest of them. 

Niall brings the guitar to him and instructs him to sit on the bar so that everyone can see him. Louis has seen him with a guitar in his hands before, but he hasn’t really noticed how it seems to become an extension of his body. He swings it around and strums a few chords before he clears his throat. 

“Um, so I’ve actually been writing some songs lately. I just finished one a few days ago actually. Maybe I’ll try that one on you all.” He looks back at Louis again with a look that Louis can’t quite decipher before he starts to pick at the strings

He sings slowly, almost quietly if not for the strength behind his voice. Louis gets lost in the words and the melody. Harry’s voice puts him into a trance as he thinks about all of the time that they have lost over the months. He can feel the pain that Harry has ingrained into his lyrics. His heart hurts for him. 

_ How many nights would you wish someone would stay _

_ Lie awake only hoping they’re ok _

_ I never counted all of mine _

_ If I tried I know it would feel like Infinity _

When the song ends, it’s to cheers and praise from the crowd around him. A few beg him to continue, but he shakes his head and hands the guitar back to Niall with a smile. He turns to Louis. Louis can see the hesitation before he reaches his hand out.

“I’m sorry,” Louis says again. Harry just shakes his head, kissing him gently on the mouth. 

“Do you want to get out of here?” He asks, bright, and smiling.

“Let’s go home.” Louis takes his hand and leads him out the front door. 

  
 

 


End file.
